


Driver's High

by wayward_s



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Car Accidents, Car Chases, Car Culture, Car Talk - thats it thats the fic, Choose Your Own Ending, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Illegal Activities, Love Triangles, M/M, Motorcycle Culture, Multi, No One Listens to Traffic Laws, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Interactive, Rivals to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Street Racing, alternate universe - street racing, suna has an accent because it fits the Aesthetic, the high schools are now mechanic garages/racing teams unless stated otherwise, the miya twins have the same taste in people, we're focused on minor characters in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_s/pseuds/wayward_s
Summary: Let's burn rubber and die together like lovers.//Three adrenaline junkies meet, and suddenly the road doesn't seem so lonely.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu & Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Suna Rintarou/Terushima Yuuji, Terushima Yuuji & Reader
Comments: 36
Kudos: 69





	1. beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> hi im Kat and i am Thirsty for Twins. please have a self-indulgent street racing fic in these trying times.
> 
> formal warnings; i tried to write with differing styles and vocies to account for dialect, and it's my first time doing that so please excuse how weird it is from my other stuff. reader also uses gender netural pronouns because i couldn't decided which way to lean, but my hc is that the reader is AFAB. also the garages/teams in the story with differ from the teams in HQ.
> 
> anyway, please enjoy.

_Kadenokoji Mechanics; Nakanojō, Gunma Prefecture_

The sound of an engine rumbling in the distance stirred (Name) from their stupor. They craned their neck and listened silently, just waiting to make sure that the sounds were getting closer.

When the front of the offending vehicle came up around the end of the driveway, they sighed.

An Audi.

High maintenance. 

Pushing themselves on to their knees, they quickly patted their hands on the front of their jumpsuit.

“This one’s yours.” They whipped their head around to face their friend, glare poised on their face. 

“Fuck of, I’ve gotten the last _three_.” 

“But (Name), I’m _busy_!”

Terushima whined, immediately ducking behind the cabinet of tools and spare parts as (Name) threw a bolt in his direction. They stood up all the while, moving to help guide the approaching vehicle into the garage

“Eat shit, Yuuji. Now get that for me so I don’t lose it.”

“You didn’t hafta _throw_ it.” He shrugged before disappearing into the back office of the building. He purposely ignored the way his fellow mechanic flipped him off.

(Name) moved with a relaxed gait, slowly guiding the new client in as he steered his vehicle into the inspection area. They frowned - no headlights, and from the brief glance they cast to the walls, the brake lights in general were out. Through the slight tint of the windshield they caught it, the slight look of aggravation on the driver’s face as he pulled in.

_Noted._

Engine shut off, the man in the driver’s seat stepped out with a prominent frown and deep lines across his forehead. (Name) stepped over to his side, bowing slightly in greeting as they grabbed the rag hanging from their hips and wiped their hands. 

“You’re the owner?”

The man cleared his throat, eyes fluttering around between their body and the interior of the garage.

“And Head Mechanic. Kadenokoji (Name), nice to meet you.”

The man looked them over once, eyes narrowed before introducing himself, “Yamazaki Hitoshi.” There was a second of hesitation, and (Name) refrained from rolling their eyes in front of him. “I don’t know if you could tell but-”

“You’re here for your lights, right?” They interjected with a tight lipped smile. “Pulled over by a boy in blue?”

“Unfortunately,” the man sighed. “But I need her to be roadworthy as soon as possible.”

(Name) chuckled and nodded their head. “From what I saw it looks like both sets are out. But I can fix it, no problem…” The mirth faded, and (Name) began to survey the front of the car with a newly adorned frown. “But honestly, I’m more worried about how she’s handling right now. It looked like you were having trouble steering… A bit tight on the right hand turn, no?”

The way his nose twitched gave (Name) all the information they needed. 

Yamazaki shook his head, arms immediately folding across his chest as the argument slowly settled between them. “Look, I’ve only come here to get my lights fixed, I’m not interested in-”

“I understand, Yamazaki-san.” They countered, clapping their hands together and then gesturing to the hood of the car. “But there’s no way, legally, that I can let you drive out of here without making sure your steering isn’t completely trashed. If I let you drive away with that sort of difficulty, then it’s only a matter of time before your tie rods lock up entirely.”

He grumbled again, obstinate, making the mechanic roll their eyes at him. 

There was no longer a point in maintaining a polite decorum. This man was an _Idiot_.

Sure, there was no real point in doing more than the client required - especially when he was being difficult. But their conscience would not let this one go. (Name) knew that Yamazaki’s Audi was teetering on the wrong edge of ‘fucked’.

And from the way they watched him process the information, they knew that he knew that fact very well. 

_What’re you hiding, Yamazaki-san?_

“Tell you what,” they began, donning an expression of apathy as they spoke, “whatever I end up having to do to fix your steering is on the house - you only have to pay for the rewiring and the headlight fluid. Sound fair?”

A second passed, and the triumphant look of success that soon adorned the man’s face infuriated them. 

(Name) had half a mind to put his face through the windscreen. 

With a curt nod of his head, the mechanic sighed to themselves as they pulled out a small book and pen from their pocket. They scribbled across the first available form, adding in the numbers for the quote and the details of repair before handing the book for their client to sign. With a few pen scratches it was done, and they tore the top page off and handed it back to the man, taking his keys in the same transaction.

“And how long will this take, Kadenokoji-san?”

“Just the lights? I wouldn’t be able to do it until later this afternoon. Got a bit of a backlog,” they gestured to the four other repair bays that were currently occupied. “But for the whole job? Best come back tomorrow so I can keep her overnight; I’ll need to make sure she handles well before I let her out of this garage.”

“Now hold on just a mi-!”

“ _Normally_ I’d charge for keeping something overnight, Yamazaki-san, but I’m not.” They deadpanned, pocketing the book once more. They heard Terushima before they saw him, and quickly waved a hand in his direction to clear out a play for them to park the new job. 

Yamazaki glared, and all the mechanic did in return was tilt their head to the side, and quirk a single eyebrow up at him.

A silent challenge.

_I have your keys, dipshit. You just signed the contract. Just accept I’m not taking any of your shit._

Yamazaki lifted his chin. “Tomorrow, then.”

“It’ll be done for you to get first thing in the morning. We open at 10.”

Another moment of hesitation emerged between them, all before Yamazaki nodded and bid his farewell, quickly retreating out of the garage and back the way he came. 

A minute of silence followed his departure, with (Name) quickly walking around the car once as a quick inspection.

“Y’know you shoulda charged him for steering, (Name).” Terushima announced as he wheeled away one of the cabinets blocking a parking bay. “Asshat totally knew something was wrong, from the moment he drove in here.” 

(Name) rolled their eyes. “No shit, that’s why I’m charging him double for the bullshit with the lights, Yuuji.” They tapped their temple with a stained index finger. “I’ve been in the game for a while, buddy, I have it under control.”

He laughed, wiping his forehead and running oil stained fingers through his hair in the same movement.

“It woulda been easier to send him on his way.” He retorted, turning off the jack once the car’s tires touched the concrete floor. Silence echoed around the garage once more. “Let some other garage overcharge him and be done with it. S’the point of having an Audi if you’re not gonna even bother to look after it?”

“Clout.” (Name) announced with a shrug of their shoulders, opening the driver’s side door. “But I have a feeling there’s something else wrong with his car. Guy looked too suspicious for my liking.”

“You really gonna have that ready for him to get in the morning?”

“I’m a good mechanic who keeps to my word.” They sat in the driver’s seat, but stepped back out. “Now hurry up and move your pet project into the parking lot, I need that repair bay.”

“Can you _not_ call this bad boy a ‘pet project’?” He whined, touching the roof of the Mazda. “He’s gonna win me mad money on the Akagi pass in a few months time.”

"Key words, ‘a few months’.” They reiterated jokingly. “But it’s cute that you think a better car will help you drive better, Biker Boy.”

They didn’t hear Terushima’s retort as they took a seat inside the cabin and turned on the engine.

Reversing out of the garage, (Name) frowned at the abysmal handling of the Audi. For one, the entire car was much lower to the ground than they originally expected. The other main note of importance was that the steering was _most certainly_ fucked. How Yamazaki had been driving with a tight steering wheel was beyond them. 

They watched as Terushima moved his car from the repair bay and into the parking area, immediately taking position to help them drive on to the platform. They caught him wincing at the way the Audi handled, and they rolled down the window.

“You were right; she handles like shit.” He announced, leaning on the door once they parked the car. “I’m never gonna get over how you can spot a problem that easy.”

They reached out through the window and landed a soft hit on his chest. “Like I said, I’ve got years of experience on you. Now seriously, can you get started on the Honda job? She’ll be back later this afternoon for it.”

He nodded, tapping the roof of the car twice before beginning to walk away. “Engine service, right? Easy as pie.”

“Wait until you take a look at it.” They grinned, not before rolling up the window as they watched his shoulders deflate. 

(Name) couldn’t help but shake their head and laugh, returning their attention to the Audi’s dashboard.

“Alright, let’s see what’s wrong with you.”

* * *

Night settled across Nakanojō quickly, and the rest of the clients who dropped off their cars came to collect and pay for the services right before the garage closed for the day. Terushima handled the front of the shop, leaving (Name) to growl at issues that slowly began to display themselves.

With each minor problem identified and solved, two more took its place. 

And the longer (Name) worked, the more certain they were that-

“This was the car that was boosted from the Shinzen Garage a few months back.”

Terushima whistled as his attention was pulled towards the person tucked under the car. 

“Oh yeah? What gave it away?”

“Exact same engine model. Ogano was gloating about this exact import right before the car disappeared.” They answered, tapping a wrench against the axle. “Paint job is different, and the plates too. But I guarantee this thing isn’t registered.”

The sounds of his footsteps echoed through the building, barely being washed out by the sounds of the roller doors shutting. 

“So he’s been doin’ his own work on it?”

“For sure.”

“S’the damage?”

His shoes came into view, and from the way the car sunk ever so slightly on the jack told (Name) that he had taken to leaning on it while they worked. They jerked their shin out at him in an attempt to reprimand. He didn't move. 

“He was getting this thing race ready.” They answered with a huff, slowly beginning to scoot out from underneath the car after it became clear Terushima gave zero fucks about their safety. “Suspension’s been lowered, but he’s done it himself because it’s gone and fucked up the rack and pinion gear. And then because he’s ignored that, the entire alignment is fucked too.” (Name) lifted themselves on to their elbows and into a sitting position, taking in the way Terushima was giving the car his own once over. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. He started messing with the engine Ogano put in here, and it’s hooked up to some bullshit nitrous oxide tanks - not even properly-”

“So the whole thing’s fucked.” Terushima confirmed, extending his hand to pull up (Name) back on to their feet. “What’re you gonna do? Fix his entire car for free?”

They shook their head and stretched out their back. “There's still a meetup tonight, aye?” Terushima nodded. “Then the chances of Ogano - or the other Shinzen guys - being there is pretty high, right?”

The grin that formed on Terushima’s face was one of pure mischief, a shit-eating grin that spelled the word ‘trouble’ in eight different ways. “Aye, now _that’s_ more like it!”

"Only the best for asswipe posers." They laughed, moving towards the backroom. Terushima lingered in the main garage foyer, kicking at the Audi's tires for a brief pressure check. 

"Did ya fix the steering?" 

They hummed. 

"Think I can take it down the track tonight?" 

(Name) scoffed, eyes quickly glancing across the screen of their burner phone. The most recent message made them laugh. "Kodera just texted-" 

"Course that di-" 

"Haruna Track." (Name) deadpanned as they looked back through the doorway back at their friend. "I don't trust you with any car on the Haruna." 

"I'm pretty good on my bike-" 

"I don't trust you with _any_ vehicle on the Haruna."

“(Name), c’mon, gimme a break.” Terushima groaned, walking through the doorway as he watched them clean off the desk. "M'getting antsy just waiting for parts to come in for my bike! Two races, s’it!" 

When they looked back at him, he was much closer than he first was, eyes wide and lips pouted to plead. 

If Terushima Yuuji had an innocent face, (Name) was certain this was his very abysmal attempt. 

Regardless of the expression, it would be a lie for (Name) to say they _weren't_ sorry for Yuuji. Though he'd survived a nasty spill on the Kusatsu-Shirane pass, his beautiful Kawasaki had not. 

That event alone was still fresh, only two months prior, and while anyone else would be hesitant to return to racing, Yuuji was anything but.

He was antsy, was eager to put pedal to metal and _drive_ \- whether that was in a car or on a bike - (Name) knew that Yuuji wanted to _feel_ something again.

And, unfortunately, they knew all too well what that was like.

They turned on their heel, finger raised at his face. "You _respect_ the GT-R, alright? Two races and you're done." 

He perked up. “That’s fine! Two races! Wouldn't wanna cut into your racing, Suna said he'd wanna give the Haruna a spin with you, aye? Gonna do it?"

The message that lay beneath the excitement was not lost on them. 

The same concern they held for him and his own wellbeing was deeply rooted in Terushima for them as well. 

And with the way his eyes flitted between them and the direction of their car parked out back, (Name) read him like an open book. 

It was always the same argument with Yuuji. 

_You gotta let the bird outta its cage sometimes._

They sighed.

What was the worst that could happen?

"If your dipshit boyfriend actually shows up for this one then I’ll _consider_ it." 

Yuuji whooped and looped an arm around their shoulders, hugging them into his side as he pulled them away from the desk. 

"You're a _legend_ , y'know? I'll shout tonight's entry fees, my treat!" 

“Yeah, yeah," in a swift movement, (Name) untangled themselves from Terushima's hold and pushed him square in the back, "if you're done blabbing then finish the wipe down for me. The faster we can clear out and get changed the better."

The wicked grin remained on his face when he spun around. "Jittery, huh?" 

They shrugged dismissively, back turned as they continued to close the shop for the end of day. With a grin, they called over their shoulder one sentence that made Terushima laugh in agreement. 

"Gotta fly sometimes." 

* * *

_Mount Haruna, Gunma Prefecture_

The evening crested towards 11 when the pair arrived, stepping out of the dark grey Nissan GT-R once (Name) parked it in line with the other attendees. 

Though the time dictated it was late, the meet remained in its early stages, with only a scattering of cars and drivers and onlookers present at the bottom of the mountain pass. 

"Did Kodera give you an idea on how many people are coming tonight?" 

The blond asked, adjusting the mask that covered the lower half of his face. The fangs and tongue painted onto the fabric reflected the lights from the headlights around them, glinting almost menacingly in the path of the headlights that faced them. (Name) shrugged, fixing their own mask as their eyes scanned the crowd. 

"Meant to be small, but y'know how these things are, Teru."

"Course, course." He agreed, slamming the door behind him before quickly taking a seat on the hood of the car. "People love a good show-" 

"Just make sure you deliver." They finished, not even bothering to spare him a glance as they extended a closed fist to him. No sooner than they had done so did Teru knock his knuckles firmly against their own. 

With a laugh, they took to leaning on the hood as well, clenched fists shoved into the pockets of their jacket as they waited for the remainder of the circuit to appear. 

EDM pumped from some speakers installed into the boot of a souped up Toyota Supra parked not too far from them. They frowned. 

“Any update from your boyfriend, or am I getting blue balled alongside you tonight?”

Teru scoffed, hand immediately rummaging through his hoodie pocket to retrieve his phone. The screen illuminated and reflected against his dark attire. 

“Just woke up.” He answered, swiping to unlock and bringing the device to his face. “I’ll let him know you’re in, maybe the dickhead’ll actually make it on time.”

(Name) hummed, gaze jumping between each silhouette outlined by their car’s headlights. Despite the darkness, they could recognise a few of the familiar faces from previous meets. 

“Yo, Koji, Teru!”

The pair turned their heads simultaneously in the direction of the voice, their body visibly relaxing as the head mechanic of the Shinzen garage approached.

“Ogano, you showed up!” (Name) called back, swivelling in place on the hood of the car and letting their legs dangle over the left hand side of the bonnet in the direction of their friend. THe curly haired man in front of the charge scoffed, reaching out to clasp hands with them and bump shoulders.

“Like you can fucking talk. You haven’t shown up in months.” The man scoffed, waving at the blond who was still on the phone to Suna. “Just because Blondie over there crashes doesn’t mean you ain’t allowed to show up anymore.”

(Name) scoffed good naturedly and leant back, resting their body weight on their left arm. “If I wanted to rock up then Blondie would’ve bugged me into letting him tag along. Can’t get this shit to leave me alone.”

“No that’s fair. With that bad of a spill, Teru needed his rest.” Ogano agreed, arms folded over his chest. “But it’s good to see you both back - your dumb masks are a sight for sore eyes.” (Name) kicked their leg out against his thigh. “I heard through the grapevine that Kodera was planning to take you off the invites if you didn’t show up tonight.”

The modern ringleader for the _hashiriya_ scene in Gunma was Masahiro Kodera - youngest grandchild of the prefecture’s last governor and single reason his grandfather’s reelection chances were dashed in the previous election. A man with an affinity for more than one vice, Kodera had his fingers on far too many triggers, and he was a very trigger happy man. 

Sprints, _Tōge_ , _Zero-Yon_ , Pink Slips - Kodera organised them all, and with the types of connections he somehow successfully maintained despite his grandfather’s fall from political grace, it meant that he was the _only_ person who could hold these meets in such a large scale without getting caught. 

But that wasn’t the only reason for its success. Kodera’s success was underpinned by his exclusivity. You only knew about an event if he _wanted_ you to know. Select few groups had direct contact with the man in question, and the list was a constantly changing one. There were regulars and cliques that had formed over time and notified each other of certain events that were happening - but if Kodera didn’t want you somewhere, he would make sure of it.

Teru snorted, pulling his phone away from his ear as he spoke. “Kodera ain’t shit. If he stopped inviting us then half of this scene dies too.”

(Name) rolled their eyes, ignoring the comment. “What’d Suna say?”

“He just left, be here in twenty.” Teru replied, slipping his phone back into his hoodie. “Nah, but it’s a good thing you grabbed us, Ogano. Koji’s got some info for ya.”

Ogano’s brow twitched as he stared back at the former. “Info? That you’re giving me without needing to race? Who are you and what have you done to Koji-san?”

They rolled their eyes at him. “Look I wouldn’t have told you if it didn’t piss me off. You remember that Audi?”

“You mean the one I’m 80% certain that some Nohebi bastard stole? Yeah, I remember.”

“Lay off the snake boys for a bit.” They gestured for him to lean in before they slipped a piece of paper form inside the jacket and into his grip. “Some guy brought it into the garage today and it was fucked beyond belief. But it’s the same engine you put in there before it got boosted and the exact same model.”

“Plates?”

“Different. New paint job too. Dunno how he got it, but it's one of yours.”

Ogano quickly glanced at the details scrawled on the paper before he crumpled it up and shoved it into his jeans. “S’pretty illegal of you to hand out something _confidential_ like this, _Kadenokoji-_ san.”

(Name) shrugged while Teru pointed at the meeting still gathering around them.

“Can’t be worse than having _Officer Shimafu_ on the force and getting him to convince people to turn a blind eye to what bullshit you all get up to, no?” They deadpanned. “He’s gonna be around to pick it up from ours at 10 tomorrow. Now, he might hypothetically get pulled over if the plates are found to not be in the system-”

“Speaking my language.” Ogano grinned devilishly. “Mafu’s over there with the others. He could probably get one of those newbies at the station to run numbers.”

“I can have the guy in and out in less than twenty. That gives you enough time to, uh, prepare an _apprehension_.”

“That works for me. Maybe send us a message when everything’s settled as well.”

“You got it.”

Teru rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood with an indignant noise. “Aye, ya know if Gora’s around? Figure I pay him a visit, he’s why I got run off the track and all.” Though the words were harsh, there was a teasing lilt to Teru’s voice - as if he knew what the mere sight of him would do to the head mechanic of the Ubugawa team. 

Ogano laughed. “Yeah, he and the boys are with the rest of us. I’ll bring you over. You gonna be alright here Koji?”

“I’m the adult here, I’ll be fine.” They raised a closed fist, bumping knuckles with Ogano before he hooked an arm around Teru’s shoulders. “Bring the idiot back in one piece yeah? Or don’t. I don’t care.”

Teru flipped them off from over his shoulder, not bothering to cast them a second glance as the pair left through the crowd. 

The crowd in question had almost doubled in size; a mix of racers, enthusiasts, and groupies looking for a good time. Kodera, though he tried to keep things within a small cross-section of the _hashiriya_ scene of Gunma, it was hard to stop the tsunami that was word of mouth, and the desire the average person had to watch the thrill of the race. 

Cursory glances were cast towards them as they watched, nodding and waving at certain familiar people who caught their eye. 

Their ears perked up at the sound of an approaching engine, quickly followed by their gaze settling on an approaching car - a Mitsubishi Evo - that steadily crawled through the dense crowd as the driver attempted to pull into the free space opposite them. 

(Name) frowned.

Silver and gold

 _That_ was definitely a new car on the scene. 

And their suspicions were confirmed as the driver stepped out from the cabin, tufts of blond hair peeking out from beneath the beanie pulled over his head. 

Head cocked to the side, they watched with narrowed eyes as the driver shut the door with his foot as he stepped further into the light, gaze surveying the rest of the landscape before him.

His eyes were dark, even with the light of the headlights shining down on him, with hooded lids and an inquisitive look embedded deep within them. 

Their gazes met from across the way, and the man raised a brow at them. Lips curved into a smirk, he cocked his head towards the cabin of the car he was leant against.

They raised a brow at him, watching as his uncovered face morphed into an expression of annoyance. His mouth opened, and his lips curved around the syllables-

_‘Wanna race?’_

(Name) rolled their eyes at him. ‘Of course,’ they thought, lifting their free hand and rubbing the index and middle fingers against their thumb. 

Without missing a beat, the man across the way reached into his back pocket and produced a clip of notes, holding it in the air just long enough for (Name) to catch the colour of the notes in the rays from the headlights before he pocketed it once more. 

He jutted his chin back towards them.

With narrowed eyes, (Name) slid off the hood and opened the door to get to the glovebox. Quickly the nicked one of the money clips and held it up, standing back to their full height as they leaned against the open door. 

The man’s grin widened, and the inquisitive look was immediately replaced with a vigour that one could only describe as hunger.

“Koji! There you are! I’ve been trying to find that dumb mask of yours at the last seven meets!”

The mask in question hid the way her mouth curved into a frown of annoyance as their attention was pulled away from their future opponent and towards the incoming voice. “I just like keeping my life separate, is that so much to ask?” They asked, watching as Kodera himself approached with a relaxed grin of his own.

Masahiro Kodera was a lanky man, a head of platinum blond hair slicked back and features that associate him with snakes more than man. 

“The stitches across the mouth are too realistic. Stick with fangs like Teru and you’re golden.” He finished, stopping just in front of where they were leaned up against the driver’s side door. “How’s Teru? Alive?”

“Unfortunately.” They answered, gaze flickering back to the driver staring holes into their head. “Since I’m back and you missed me so much, wanna tell me who that dickhead is?”

Kodera didn’t bother in being subtle, looking over their shoulder in the direction of the man, who stared back, unwavering, at (Name)’s form. Kodera shrugged. “Never caught his name.”

They hummed, curious. “Not one of yours?”

Kodera snorted. “Nah. I think he’s just lucky when he lingers around one of these mountains. But he’s good. Evo’s not just for show. Why? You in?”

They retrieved the clip of cash from their jacket and pressed it into the organiser’s chest. “ _Tōge_ chase - that’s enough for the inner lane, right?”

Kodera lifted the notes with one hand and thumbed through them quickly, giving them a curt nod. “I’ll let them know up top to expect you. Want me to tell Evo Boy?”

“That’s your whole job right?” They dismissed, sliding into the driver’s seat and shutting the down with a heavy slam behind them. Kodera stepped away with the shake of his head at their response as he started waving for the surrounding crowd to disperse. 

With a flick of their wrist, they turned on their ignition and revved their engine as a warning, watching as the nearby onlookers quickly moved out of the way.

Slowly, they pulled out from where Teru parked the car, revved the engine once more before tearing away in the direction of the road that wound up Mount Haruna.

In the rearview mirror, they caught the flash of the man’s canine teeth as they drove off all before he shoved something into Kodera’s chest and dashed towards his own car.

* * *

They reached the top of the mountain five minutes before their opponent reached the apex. They watched as the Evo performed its own three-point turn to position itself into the outer lane of the road.

Window rolled down on the passenger side, (Name) looked to see one of Kodera’s men walk in between the bodies of both vehicles. Their opponent’s window rolled down at the same time, and he sent them a quick wink before directing his attention to the judge.

“This one’s a _tōge_ chase - first one to make it to the bottom of the mountain wins. Time doesn’t matter. Whoever’s first, wins. You’re looking at a starting pot of ¥70,000. Depending on the bets Kodera has, it might be a bit more. You just gotta make it down there first.” The man looked between the two drivers and then jutted his chin towards the woman, who stood confidently between the two cars at the starting line. “Any questions, kiddos?”

The blond shook his head, and (Name) shrugged their shoulders, rolling the window up to end the conversation. 

The man tapped his knuckles against the roof of their car, and (Name) watched from the corner of their eye as his silhouette retreated from view. Training their gaze back to the road in front of them, (Name) focused on the woman standing at the starting line. The headlights from both cars reflected against her clothes and skin, and contrasted against the darkness was the cloth she held in her right hand.

Left hand raised, the woman pointed at (Name) through the windscreen. They revved the engine again in response. 

She pointed to their opponent, who responded in kind.

There was a half beat of nothing before the cloth dropped.

And it was on.

Their cars lurched forward, both drivers desperate to secure their lead in the first few turns of the road.

The first three turns were in quick succession, with the lead changing with every passing second, and it wasn’t until the fifth turn that the distance between each bend increased enough to solidify (Name)’s steady lead.

They could feel the asphalt from underneath the tires, and the resistance

The headlights from the car behind them reflected aggressively against their rearview mirror, an attempt to distract them from the upcoming turn.

“Amatuer,” they growled, eyes flickering to their speedometer and down to their gear shift for a quick confirmation before throwing themselves into a drift around the next turn.

_Break. Turn. Change Gears. Go._

They couldn’t help but watch their opponent behind them, watching as the back of his car shook every time he came out of a turn.

He was too focused on speed, maybe his tires weren’t as worn down as they should be.  
Either way, his balance was all off and his technique would only get him so far.

And so far, that distance was second place.

_Break. Turn. Change Gears. Go._

_Rinse. Repeat_. 

_Go._

They descended, further down the mountain, (Name)’s ears popping from the sudden shift in altitude. The only sounds around them that greeted their eardrums was that of eight sets of wheels screeching against asphalt and echoing in the night as they continued to race further and further towards the finish line.

(Name) teetered the centre line, never giving the man behind them an opportunity to pass, or even inch any closer to the inside line. 

If memory had served them right, there were three turns left before the home stretch.

They looked back over their shoulder, before making their decision.

Third last turn, (Name) pulled closer to the inside line, watching as the man followed the bait and attempted to follow through down the centre and outside line on the short stretch between bends.

They slowed down for a second, waiting until their back wheels were just in line with the nose of his car before they swerved into the second last turn, the sound of metal on rubber reverberating through the car’s cabin. 

Their opponent wavered, if only for a second, but that second gave them enough time to floor the gas and speed off towards the end of the line. 

Coming out of the last turn, (Name) tightened their turn and came out of the drift as tightly as possible, straightening the back wheels of their car so they could drive at top speed towards the finish line.

In the distance, they noticed that the headlights of the Evo had disappeared behind the mountainside.

As they approached, the crowd dispersed from the line and though they couldn’t _hear_ them over the sound of the engine, they could tell that they successfully passed over the line.

“Fuck yes!” (Name) cheered to themselves as they passed the crowd and travelled further down the stretch of land sectioned off by the meetup, slamming their foot onto the break as a large clearing a hundred metres away came up on their left.

With a hard tug of the steering wheel, they threw their car into a donut. The tires screamed against the asphalt, the smell of burnt rubber seeping through as their momentum ended and left them facing inwards towards the main road. 

A few seconds passed and a second set of lights approached, the dark Evo slowed and drifted to the space on their right-hand side, further away from the meet. 

(Name) got out, donning a triumphant expression on their face as they shut their door behind them. Hands shoved into jeans pockets, they waited, eyes squinted through the headlights that glared down at them. 

The engine of the Evo turned off, and was quickly followed by the driver’s side door swinging open.

The familiar beanie clad silhouette peered out from behind the door, forearms leant on the top of the frame. 

(Name) couldn’t see his eyes amidst the darkness.

“That was a dirty move.”

They blinked, taking a moment to translate the dialect in their mind. 

_Kansai_. 

Guy was a _long_ way from home.

(Name) tilted their head to the side, lips pulled into an almost unimpressed smile at his complaint. “Nothing dirty about that, it was a clean drift. _You_ just rely on speed too much.”

“Oh~?”

“Mhm.” They folded their arms across their chest. “Sure, you need speed to make the bend, but if you go too fast then you risk throwing yourself off course.”

The man nodded, stepping around his door before closing the distance with easy, measured steps towards them. “Any other advice?”

(Name) straightened their back out as he approached. “If you want it.”

“F’it means I win the next time, I’ll take what ya give me.” He confirmed, stopping a few steps away.

“If you’re _really_ set on drifting, then bite the fucking bullet and change the steering so your wheel controls the back set and not the front.” They deadpanned, lifting their shoulders into a shrug. “You’re still relying on your front set, and that does alright for other races, but _tōge_ is unforgiving - all these roads are.”

He paused, directly in front of them, blocking out the light from his car and letting them get a clean look at his face.

No signs of anger were evident on his face, instead they could sense the adrenaline lingering in his system.

"What am I meant to call you?"

"Koji."

He hummed. "S'that all?"

"Koji (Name)."

“(Name) it is.” The blond nodded, shifting his beanie further down his forehead before he let his hand fall between them, extended in a handshake. “The name’s Atsumu.”

Their eyes flitted between his hand and gaze, all before they placed their own into his grasp and gave it a firm shake.

“Nice race, Atsu-”

“Oya! Still got it, don’t cha Koji-kun!”

(Name) looked over their shoulder and waved at the approaching Kodera, taking note of the silhouette that was trailing up the rear at breakneck speed.

 _Teru_ , they thought with a laugh. 

“I’ll see ya around then, (Name).”

Frowning, they turned back to look at Atsumu, who already began to walk back towards the driver’s side door. “Not staying for the rest of the night?”

“Nah,” he called out, not bothering to turn back and face them, “I’ve had my fun. Let the _scrubs_ take their time dirtying up ya track.” He grinned, tone so overtly condescending that it smacked them across the face. “Got bigger fish ta fry.”

(Name) rolled their eyes, taking a few steps back to meet Kodera and the rest of the congratulatory squad halfway. “Ah yeah, change that steering and then we’ll see if you can pass me. Spoiler alert; you won’t.”

They heard him scoff and he threw them a middle finger over his shoulder as he slid back into his car, the engine immediately turning on. 

(Name) returned the favour before they turned on their heel, ignoring the way the blond’s muffler growled as he left, turning back down the main road on and into the night.

No time to falter or let their thoughts linger.

Chances were they had a few more races to run after that performance.

* * *

_Nakanojō, Gunma Prefecture_

Two weeks passed after the Haruna meet and Kodera had fallen short and failed to organise anything. 

Though it wasn’t much of a bother for (Name), Yuuji was still reeling with his unsavoury performance, and was desperate for something more. 

They did their best to placate, taking him to different courses after closing up shop and letting him run wild until they forced him to head back to their shared house.

But it wasn’t enough.

He knew that.

They knew that.

And they were waiting for the moment Yuuji sprung some dumb idea on them in an attempt to cope with withdrawal.

Case and point, that morning in their home while (Name) attempted to get ready to open up the garage.

"I'm not going to Hyogo with you."

"Why not?"

"It's _Hyogo_! And I can't close up shop, Genius."

"You can get someone to cover for us!" 

"Hey, Asswipe, we're the only two employees in the fuck bucket."

(Name) glared at him from over their shoulder, tucking in the end of their shirt into their jumpsuit and tying the sleeves around their waist. Yuuji groaned, leaning on the doorframe of their bedroom to keep them from leaving.

"Suna'd look after the place for us!" 

They scoffed.

"Suna gets his work _done_ here, that doesn't mean he can _work here_." They reiterated. "Yuuji, you're a good guy, but just cause you're fucking doesn't mean I'm hiring him." 

“He wouldn’t even hafta take anythin’ in! Most of the shit in the shop is up for collection right? Suna would just need to get people to pay and then make sure they drove off with the right car. Simple!”

(Name) frowned and jammed their elbow into Yuuji’s stomach, taking the moment he hunched over as the opportunity to walk past him.

“Oof- hey, (Name)-”

“You could go with Suna,” they posed, proceeding further down the hallway towards the kitch, “isn’t he from Hyogo?”

“Suna doesn’t wanna go. I dunno why, but he ain’t budging on it.” Yuuji grumbled, trailing after them like a lost puppy. 

“Is it just a racing meet?”

“Biker stuff - dunno if there’ll be any races but I have a feeling Imma run into some friends or whatever.” He chimed, taking a seat at the dining table.

“Biker as in _bosozoku_ , got it.” They grumbled, quickly pointing a finger over their shoulder as they set up the toaster and grabbed at the bread in the breadbox. “You really gotta fill me in on all that bullshit you went through before I pulled your ass out of the Agatsuma.”

He tapped his hands against the table top. “I can tell ya the whole thing if you come with me to this meet.” They turned around to stare him down, a blank expression plastered on their face. “I swear it’s a good story. Romance, action, a vendetta-”

“Do we need to take your bike down with us or is this just a meet and greet thing?”

Yuuji paused, mouth in an ‘o’ for a brief second before shaking his head. “Not a lot of racing happens at these meets. It’s more like, talking, getting new suppliers and all that.”

“I should’ve left you to drown in the Agatsuma…” They grumbled as they shoved the bread into the toaster. “If Suna’s fine to mind the shop this weekend then, yeah, I’ll go with you.”

Yuuji whooped, slamming a fist against the table before he slid off it. “Lemme call him - it’ll be a ‘yes’, for sure.”

(Name) didn’t bother watching him leave the kitchen, instead took to listening as his feet thudded down the hallway in the direction of his bedroom, door shutting with a heavy thud behind him. 

They waited a moment before exhaling deeply, emptying the contents of their lungs as they propped both their hands up on the counter top.

_Lord, give me strength._

* * *

_Route 176 near Sanada, Hyogo Prefecture_

The weekend bosozoku meet flew by faster than (Name) originally anticipated. 

Granted they spent a lot of their evenings trailing behind Yuuji as he roamed around and sized up the other attendees. 

They both kept their heads down, an agreement entered by Yuuji upon their arrival in Nishinomiya and after they had gotten the full rundown of the events that lead him to being found in the Agatsuma River. 

(“Dunno who is gonna be there, but if it ends up being bad company that realises who I am then we’ll be fucked.” He said, with such a severity that (Name) had never seen on his face.

“Cool. Good to know I’ll be dead by bikies and not by _yakuza_. That’s one way to go out.”)

True to what Yuuji had told them earlier that week, the meet was a quiet affair, held on the backstreets of Nishinomiya’s metropolitan districts with clear gangs and groups littering the back alleys. The visuals, though not dissimilar to the meets they frequented in Gunma, were still enough to send a shock to their system.

Brighter colours, showier models and similarly flashy riders - it was clear to (Name) that maybe the line between their worlds wasn't so thick. 

“There’s someone pulled over up there.”

Yuujji murmured, jutting his chin towards the embankment on the left hand side of the road.

(Name) frowned, pressing their face up against the window to get a clearer view. “Looks like they’re alone…” Yuuji hummed as he slowed the car down, indicating that he was ready to pull over at the mechanic’s signal. “You’ve still got a knife in the glovebox, right?”

They hummed. “Pull over. Let’s scope it out.” (Name) replied, rolling down the window on their side of the car while simultaneously pulling out said knife from the glove compartment.”

Yuuji stopped and parked their car a few metres behind the person - a man, from what the silhouette presented - leaving (Name) to peer their head out of the window.

"Oi, need a hand?" 

The man turned, dark eyes staring at them before narrowing at the tinted windshield.

"If it ain’t a bother, that’d be really great."

(Name) froze for a second at the slight familiarity of the voice. The deep timbre, and the Kansai flair-

"Good thing we’ve got one of the best mechanics I've seen." Yuuji was already out of the car, using his phone as a flashlight as he approached the man. (Name) rolled their eyes, sliding the knife and its sheath into their boot before getting out of the car, pulling out their own phone and crossing the distance to the-

The blond let out a low whistle. “A 2007 CBR600RR? Nice ride.”

The stranger chuckled. “It’d be nicer f’it wasn’t given me a hard time.” He replied, nodding his head in the direction of the bike. “Pretty sure I’ve got a knocking piston…”

“Want the toolbox, (Name)?” Yuuji asked as they approached, slinking down on their knees at the engine. They shone their light into the gap between the metal plates and frowned, swivelling their phone left and right to confirm the man’s concern.

"It’s in the boot." They answered, a confirmation for the blond to go. “You’ve got time, right? I’ll have to take this shit apart to make sure it’s only one piston that’s knocking.”

The man nodded, reaching his hand down towards them. “F’ya don’t mind, then it’d be great. Here, I’ll hold that for ya.”

Dropping down into a lower squat, (Name) handed their phone up to the man, directing him to hold it a specific way. “Yuuji! Mind moving the car a little forward? I’m gonna need more light.”

There was a distant yell of confirmation, followed by the scrambling of the blond back towards them to drop off the toolbox before returning to the car.

Rolling up their sleeves, (Name) went to work, rummaging through their tools to start dismantling the kit of the Honda bike. 

"You’re a mechanic, then?" The man asked over the sound of the GTR approaching, moving to the opposite side of the bike so he could give them more room to work. 

(Name) shrugged their shoulders as they finished removing the side panel and placing it to the side. “Shine the light through here for me real quick. I think I got it.” 

The man obliged quickly, leaving (Name) to nod in understanding. “You did your own mechanic work on this thing, right?”

"Ya can tell, huh?"

"Course. The whole rig job screams ‘Amateur Hour’." They paused and looked back up. "No offence, you probably have a, uh, _decent idea_ with what you’re doing..."

It was then, in the off-white glow of the headlights that (Name) got a decent look of the man they were roped into helping. 

Dark grey hair strewn messily across his forehead and an undercut evident in the bright light, and a set of hooded eyes that stared blankly back at them. His torso was hidden by the thick leather riding jacket zipped all the way up, the high colour obscuring everything from the chin down. 

Familiar. Yes.

But differently all the same. 

_It’s a big world, we all look the same at some point._

(Name) looked back down into the toolbox and frowned. “Yuuji, double check that my socket wrench is in the backseat.”

“On it.”

“Ya know, ya avoided my question earlier.” The man pointed out as he positioned himself over them, watching with keen eyes as they began work on fixing the piston.

They gave him their own snort. “Sadly, yeah, I’m a mechanic. I deal in a range of shit - standard size, trucks, buses, bikes - gotta keep afloat somehow.”

"Then should I take it to you for check-ups?"

"If you feel like driving all the way to Nakanojō, be my guest."

"Gunma, huh?" The man blew out a huff. "I'm assumin' ya drift as well"

(Name) glanced at their car and the body hanging out of the backdoor, jerking their chin to the front bonnet. "What, you think that engine's just for show?"

Grey-haired stranger clicked his tongue.

"Muffler definitely is."

They rolled their eyes at his quip. "It's to scare off the posers who think they can _tōge_ race after reading Initial D."

“F’course. Gunma kid like yourself is probably _very_ territorial.” He laughed. “Seriously, I really was lucky that you two stopped for me. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it!” Yuuji yelled as he reapproached, handing (Name) the wrench they were originally looking for. “More light?” He asked, already pulling his phone back out to shine it from behind the mechanic.

The stranger shuffled again, leaning on the body to illuminate the engine from where the shadows threatened the mechanic’s vision.

"M'name's Osamu." He sniffed, sending them both a nod.

"(Name)."

"Yuuji." The blond grinned. "Seriously, come up to Nakanojō sometime. It'd be nice to talk to someone about bikes for once, this one only has cars on the brain." He chided, knocking his fingers against the back of their head. “It’d be sweet to see what’s in this bad boy, get some ideas for my own ride.”

Osamu blinked. “Ah, you both were at the meet-up, right? You were talking with Narita and their crew for most of it.”

Yuuji agreed, though his voice demonstrated his hesitancy. 

“M’friends with the idiot. We went to high school together.” Osamu explained with an easy voice when he noticed the way Yuuji leaned his weight against the already hunched over mechanic. “I’m safe, I swear. I know _bosozoku_ crowds are iffy-”

“Yeah no shit…” (Name) grumbled as they tightened a bolt.

“But I steer clear of that. M’just in it for the speed, ya know? Racing. The easy shit.” 

Yuuji nodded, relaxing his weight off the person beneath him. “Then you definitely gotta come to Nakanojō.”

“Isn’t it all car culture up there?”

“I wish-”

“It’s got a steady bike culture. A little more easy going with newbies.”

“You got far to go tonight?” (Name) interjected, casting a glance between the two men conversing. Osamu nodded. 

“I was headin’ back to Tokyo but I got delayed ‘cause of this shit,” he tapped his foot against the front tire, “might camp in Osaka for a bit and head off in the mornin’; just so I don’t risk drivin’ on a shitty engine.” He frowned quickly and directed his comment towards the blond behind them. “I’m alright ta make it there. And I’d feel bad hitching this shitstain on something like that GTR.”

Yuuji stood back up, raising his hands in defeat. “If you’re sure, the engine’s probably fine-”

(Name) huffed and dropped the wrench back into the toolbox before reaching for the discarded panel at their thighs. “Engine’s a decent one - just the installation that’s fucked.” They confirmed, wiping their forehead with the back of their non-dominant hand. “It should be alright now. Let me reattach this panel and then I’ll get you to start it up for me, gotta make sure it’s running smoothly again.”

They caught the way Osamu nodded thanks to the shadows casted by the three different light sources.

Quickly reattaching the panel, (Name) leant back on their forearms and nodded, keeping their eyes on the panel hiding the engine from them. Osamu rested the mechanic’s phone on the seat as he reached for the engine switch, flicking it on and giving the engine a quick revv. 

No rattling.

“You should be fine.” They sighed, reclining on to the dirt beneath them while Yuuji stepped back, giving them space. “It was just one piston that was a little loose. If there are any other issues then it's the way the engine is installed, but I can’t do anything for you there. Not without my set up in my garage.”

They swept the rest of their tools into the toolbox and locked it, all before pushing themselves back onto their feet and retrieving their phone from the seat.

“Thanks for that, both of ya, ya really didn’t have to stop for me.” Osamu exhaled, stooping to the ground and sweeping his helmet up off the floor. “What do I owe ya?”

(Name) waved their hand. “Don’t worry about it. Yuuji would’ve made me if I didn’t want to.”

Said man looped an arm around their shoulders, tugging them into his side. “Who wouldn’t stop and help someone out? Seriously man, you’re alright. Just get home safe.”

He nodded, the faint shape of a smile appearing on his face. “You too. Gunma is a little farther than Tokyo so take it easy.”

“Drive safe.” (Name) nodded, offering their own wave as Osamu slid the helmet back on and swung a leg back over the body, kicking the kickstand back up when he was balanced.

A few seconds passed before Osamu tore off from the embankment, the black bike and similarly clad rider disappearing down the expressway.

The pair’s gazes lingered in the direction the man drove off in-

“Did you know that guy?”

(Name) shook their head, separating themselves from Yuuji’s grasp and walking back towards their car. “Nah. Seemed familiar. Couldn’t figure out where.”

“Ah, alright.” Yuuji said slowly. “You just seemed like you knew the guy.”

They slid into the car once more, with Yuuji almost immediately pulling back out of the embankment and back onto the expressway.

“Wake me up if you need a break, yeah? Still got 7 hours to go.” (Name) grumbled, pulling the knife from their boot and placing it back in the glovebox. 

“Course, you’ve earned that nap Mechanic-kun.” Yuuji teased, elbowing them in the side while they reclined the chair backwards.

“Yeah yeah fuck off.” They grumbled, shoving him back as they folded their arms across their torso and looked out at the darkened landscape passing them by as Yuuji sped down the road. “Try not to get me a speeding ticket. If I get one it’s coming out of your next payslip.”

Yuuji grumbled something under his breath, but it was lost on them as they inhaled deeply and closed their eyes.

For a brief moment, they saw Osamu, and the colour shifted and illuminated his dark eyes until they shone a brilliant and warm golden tone.

 _Headlights_ , their sleep addled mind reasoned. 

Because that’s all it was.

A simple reflection. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe that my crisis about Miya Atsumu turned into this? Oikawa, sweetie, if you're reading this i still love you, but Atsumu and Osamu are just,,, so shitty and pretty and i love them-
> 
> i'm not too sure when i'll have the next part out, but with the way the world is i'll be alternating between all my fics on here. please let me know what you think here in the comments or through a kudos.


	2. thrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My adrenaline's always flowing, and it feels like I'm the one that's gonna overheat ___  
>  _  
>  _//_   
>  _   
>  _  
> _(Name) can't say no to this._  
>  _   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a stickler for accuracy and all, but creative liberties where needed in the writing of this chapter. you probably wont notice, but this disclaimer is more for my conscious. 
> 
> anyway please enjoy, sorry for the wait.

_Kadenokoji Mechanics; Nakanoj_ _ō, Gunma Prefecture_

Half an hour into (Name)’s lunch break, Yuuji poked his head into the back room, face smeared with grease and oil.

“Got a minute?”

“Depends.” They answered, wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. “What’s the problem?”

“Ogano’s dropped by, he’s got a present out back for ya.” 

They frowned, pushing themselves out of the chair and moving towards the back door, hands wiping themselves quickly on their jumpsuit. “If it’s that fucking Audi again I’m gonna run him over with my Nissan.”

Yuuji laughed but said nothing else, quickly moving back to the main working area of the workshop.

With a huff, (Name) threw open the back door, letting the bright, midday sun wash over them. They blinked, their non-dominant hand coming up to shield their eyes as they stepped out, taking in the sight of the familiar Shinzen Head Mechanic standing in front of three different cars parked in the parking lot of their garage. 

A Chevrolet Corvette C7, a Cadillac CTS V, and a Lexus LC 500.

_Why do luxury cars keep finding their way to me?_

“Presents? For me? You shouldn’t have!” They greeted sarcastically, wiping their hands again as they approached before extending it for a handshake. 

Daiki quickly stepped up with his own grin, shaking their hand once before shoving his other hand into his pocket and brandishing a kerying towards them.

“I’ve got a bit of a proposition, if you’re up for it.” He said, keys rattling against each other as he spoke. “Things are a little, uh, _iffy_ right now for me and my boys, but I think you’d benefit from this situation more than most.”

They frowned, the strain in Daiki’s voice not lost on them. 

(Name) quickly glanced around, and though they knew that their garage was surrounded by several empty plots of land, it didn’t do well to be complacent when the conversations they had inevitably shifted to the more _illegal_ parts of their life.

“Shall we continue this conversation in my office? You’ve got no plans, right?”

Daiki gestured that he would follow, and the pair quickly strolled back through the backroom’s exit and into the adjoining office. (Name) held the door open for their friend before shutting the door behind them and closing the blinds that covered the window on the door. 

“What’s up? Did the force find out that Shimafu is dealing dirty.” (Name) asked, nodding their head towards one of the chairs. Daiki followed, slumping down into the leather with a deep sigh. “Sounds bad.”

“Audi Thief.” Daiki admitted, rubbing his eyes while (Name) took their seat opposite him.

“You stole it back, right?”

“It was easy.” The brunet confirmed, leaning back into the cushion of the chair. “Shimafu got one of the boys in his squad to perform the impounding. Turns out the guy didn’t even have a valid license so it was pretty lucky.”

(Name) furrowed their brow. “If you say someone boosted this car from the fucking impoundment lot-”

“It’s still there. Turns out, Yamazaki has an in with Nohebi which is why he had the car in the first place.” They sighed deeply at the revelation, tilting their head back so it could rest on the back of their chair. “Yeah. Not a fun revelation.”

“Have they made a move to boost it back?”

“Not yet. We’ve had some, uh, _warnings_ left on the garage’s doorstep that have been less than savoury. M’worried it’ll keep escalating so we’ve shut down operations for a few weeks - said to the customer’s that we have renovations to do so we’ll be closed.”

“There have been rumours that Daishou has an in with some minor yakuza group in Gunma city - I mean, that’s what Yuuji claims - so I wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to try something.” (Name) growled, elbows resting on the table as their fingers steepled together as they thought. “If you needed somewhere to operate out of I wouldn’t mind opening up business here with you. Don’t want you all to lose income.”

“We’ll be fine. The boys and I are just focused on dealing with these snakes in the grass for now.” Daiki confirmed. “Thanks anyway. For the heads up about Yamazaki and the Audi as well.”

“I feel like you should be throwing me under the bus since all this has brought you is strife.” (Name) admitted, waving their hand at the man. 

“Nah, it was bound to happen at some point.”

(Name) nodded in understanding. Nohebi, despite being a presence in the Greater Tokyo region, had been steadily making life for almost all racers in the Gunma prefecture more and more difficult. And though Kodera had made consistent efforts to exclude the gang in question, it didn’t stop Daishou and the rest of his crew from starting things with racers _outside_ of meet-ups.

Shinzen had been on their list for a while, after the crew in question were able to win a few hundred thousand yen and a few pink slips against one of Nohebi racers in a _zero-yon_ race.

The sparks were bound to fly, whether (Name) intervened with their information or not. 

“So, about the three cars outside?”

At the mere mention of the delivery, Daiki perked up, the fatigue immediately washing away.

“I’m _so glad_ you said you didn’t want me losing income during this tragic, _tragic_ time-”

“I can handle the rest of your jobs-”

“No we got those covered. Those babies are for the Mihama Meet Up.” Daiki placed the keys on to the desk, sliding them over with a quick flick of his wrist. They raised a brow at him, finger prodding against the metal suspiciously. 

The name drop wasn’t lost on them. Mihama was known for holding car festivals and gatherings every so often despite being a commuter town for the average businessperson, but the Mihama Meet Up in question teetered more on the unsavoury side of the car world. Most car festivals were about exhibiting, maybe letting the average enthusiast gawk over a flashy car and an attractive girl standing next to it.

But Mihama was for two distinct groups. On one hand, it was for the world (Name) indoctrinated themselves in. The world of illegal racing was rife with people desperate to make a living. Mihama offered even the poorest racer the opportunity to break even. The Mihama bay side opened itself up to the _zero-yon_ sprints and the drag races they were familiar with, presenting a perfect stage for a racer to show off their skills and the modified car they were driving. More often than not, said vehicle was some luxury model, tuned up to high hell in order to make a flashy first impression for-

The second group; the rich socialites who enjoyed the glitz and glamour of a fast car, but didn’t want to put in their own effort in modifying and building these fast cars from the ground up. Each race was viewed by the Japanese elite, and the cars that impressed the most were easily scooped up by the baddest bidder. Most of the time, those prices were more than triple the cost of the total work completed, making the way the racer performed the most important part of the weekend in general. 

In short, Mihama was a place to break out - to step into the underworld’s limelight and make a living in a way looked down upon by the regular public.

It was the car junkie _dream_.

But for (Name)-

“Y’know that’s not my scene.”

“You’d be doing me such a favour, (Name), you’ve got no idea.” Daiki begged, scooting himself closer to the table. “You already know how much me and the guys rely on stuff like this to get by. I mean, you’re pretty much the only mechanic most people around here trust.”

“It’s because I do my job.”

“And you do it _so well_ (Name), really.”

They frowned. “Flattery isn’t going to help you here.”

“Then let it be a business transaction.” He relented. “I will sponsor you and Yuuji to take these cars down to Chiba and do the heavy lifting for me. _Fuck_ , I’ll even give you, like 30% of the total sales for all three cars! I’ve had these cars ready for almost a year and _need_ to sell them. And if _you’re_ driving them then it’ll be a piece of cake. _You know that_ -”

They did know that. 

It was one of the more obscure reasons that they stayed away from the mainstream underground culture everyone else they knew busied themselves in. 

You could have top tier parts and a car that, even before being modified, was a high performance vehicle - but all that did not equate to having the correct skill to handle a machine of that calibre.

 _But it pays_ , the voice in their head whispered, the devil on their shoulder gnawing at their ear and morality. _It’s a one-off. What harm could it do?_

_Throw your elitism aside for one day._

_You can't say 'no' to this._

_It’s just a bit of driving._

_Racing._

_Drive._

_Do it._

_Drive._

_Dri-_

“I’ll do it.” They grumbled, swiping the keyring of the table and throwing them into one of the drawers on their side. “Two weeks time, right?” The curly-haired man nodded, sighing deeply as their confirmation settled in his mind.

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

They shrugged and waved a hand. “You twisted my arm. And who would turn down 30%.”

“Money talks, you know that. 15% for you and Yuuji. Wait, would you take Suna with you?”

“If he’s bothered to come with.”

“10%, that’s not terrible with how much these cars go for..”

“Yeah, sure.” They scoffed, “Hard cash, right?”

“Of course,” Daiki nodded, “but some of these assholes will want to wire through payment. One of the guys is getting a dummy account set up just in case, I’ll send through the details when it.” 

(Name) nodded, lips pulled into a tight line before they decided to bite the bullet. “These cars, Daiki, they aren’t dirty, are they?”

The man’s ease washed off his face at the accusation. “(Name).”

“I just have to be sure, y’know.” They rebutted quickly. “You know what some of the sellers do to fuck their buyers over, just wanna make sure that you got the bases for these things _clean_.”

“Oh yeah no actually I have an in with the non-existent Chevrolet dealer here in Nakanojō and they let me steal the cars off the selling floor, no questions asked.” Daiki deadpanned. “Paranoid much.”

“Gimme a break.” They retorted. “We run in a very shady world, forgive me for trying to keep myself copacetic.”

“Yeah you tell yourself that Kadenokoji. As if you didn’t rat out your client to a gang for a stolen car.”

“Fuck off.” (Name) clicked their tongue at him, rolling their eyes as they averted their gaze. “Was there anything else you needed? Are you sure you didn’t want to use, like, half of the garage space so you don’t lose out on too much?”

The man shook his head quickly, hand raised as he waved it dismissively. “It’s fine, you’re already doing us such a solid with driving and selling these cars. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

“We look out for each other, right?” Came their quick rebuttal. “I’ve got it handled. Just trust me on this.” (Name) extended their hand across the table, not needing to wait that long for Daiki to place his hand in their own and shake.

They tightened their grip around his wrist, index finger placed firmly against his pulse point while Daiki opted to squeeze their fingers a little tighter. 

A spoken and unspoken agreement settled across them. 

_Don’t fuck me over on this._

* * *

_Nakanojō, Gunma Prefecture_

That same evening, (Name) found themselves sprawled out on the floor of their lounge, hand cradling a can of beer while Yuuji rummaged around in the kitchen. Suna was sprawled out across their couch while he silently scrolled through his phone. 

“Listen up real quick.” (Name) stated after they finished the contents of their drink, crushing the aluminium without batting an eye. “I’ve got something to ask.” 

“It was Terushima’s idea ta fuck on yer office desk.”

“Oi, Suna-”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that-”

“We disinfected everything-”

“ _And I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that as well_.” They growled, the vowels coming out in a slur as they sat upright. 

“Does this have something to do with what Ogano wanted today?” Yuuji asked as he appeared from the kitchen, propping himself up against the couch’s back, one hand resting his weight against the armrest Suna had laid his head down on. 

“Those three cars he dropped off were for the Mihama Meet up. He wants us to drive in place of them and sell them off.”

The blond frowned. “The boys can’t do that themselves?”

“Yamazaki had an in with Nohebi.”

Suna snorted, some hushed whisper of “Dumb snakes” leaving his lips, not bothering to give the head mechanic a second glance while Yuuji straightened his back out and folded his arms across his chest in understanding. 

“I’d be down to race.” He affirmed with a tight lipped frown. “Dunno if I’d be up with the Big Leagues of the capital, but I wouldn’t mind taking the Lexus for a spin or two.” He pursed his lips slightly.

“Mihama’s about lettin’ the cars talk, right? No fancy driftin’ or whatever.” Suna murmured, thumb poised above his phone screen. “Ya could do that… probably.”

“Mhm, he’s got a point” (Name) jutted their chin towards the dark-haired man. “That said though you can always just drive a car down and then let me handle the racing...”

“I’m not _that_ bad behind the wheel of a car am I!?”

There was no doubt that Terushima Yuuji had skills on a motorcycle.

But cars?

Despite having lived and worked with (Name) for the better half of four years, cars were still beyond him. Granted, it would be a lie to say the blond wasn’t improving. He was, and it was steady.

But when compared to the calibre of the _hashiriya_ that (Name) surrounded themselves with, it was a little lacklustre.

For the first time that evening, Suna looked (Name) in the eyes, mirroring the same unimpressed expression that hid their true emotions. It was like looking in a mirror, one that only Terushima Yuuji could polish and reveal.

 _A favour_ , their eyes said.

There was a pause, and they swore Suna’s shoulders relaxed for a moment. 

“I’ll come with.” Suna said after another second of silence, returning his gaze to his phone, unbothered by the way his partner stared holes into the side of his head. “If Ogano wants to make profit then you’ll need someone behind the wheel who is capable of keeping the thing _out_ of the Tokyo Bay.”

(Name) scoffed, eyes flickering to catch the look of hurt that flashed across their friend’s features. “It’d be appreciated.”

“I made it through the last races without crashing your GTR!”

“That was because of fear, not skill-”

“See, Suna gets it, he’s only been here for like, six months.”

“M’still gonna run ya off the tracks when I get the chance.”

“Well now you _have_ to come to Mihama and put you money where your mouth is; Ogano’s car sales can wait..”

Suna’s lips quirked upwards for a second before the amusement fizzled away. 

“Quit ignoring me! Imma damn good racer!”

“Yeah, yeah, do you mind grabbing me another one of these?” (Name) shook the crushed can in the air, watching as Yuuji groaned and slowly slid down behind the couch with a thud. 

“Grab me one too, Teru” Suna added as he threw a hand over the back of the couch, the light tapping of his hand against the blond’s face enough of a prompt to force him upright.

“I don’t like you.” Yuuji huffed as he rose from his position. “Either of you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“M’still thirsty.”

* * *

_Mihama Ward; Chiba City, Chiba Prefecture_

It was the tail end of midnight when the main bulk of attendees for the Mihama Meet Up arrived, but even with the minor delays those who were already camped out in the new warehouse zone had done their best to set the mood for the rest of the evening.

The Mihama Ward was established on reclaimed land previously hidden by the ocean tide. Every few decades, enough land was exposed to warrant a big business to stake its claim and build its own shipping and receiving headquarters there.

And often, with enough persuasion, those warehouses were mysteriously left vacant and unguarded. The perfect stomping ground for the restless _hashiriya_ to run amok. 

Though it was their first time at the Mihama Meet, it wasn’t hard for (Name) to determine the unspoken structure and groups in attendance.

For the most part, people who were selling and racing dressed no differently than what they saw around the Gunma tracks. The familiar swathes of dark and neon coloured clothes, varying in hypebeast aesthetics and trademarks that seemed to identify the racers to each other. Contrasted against the clean-cut attire of their audience, it was clear that the divide inherently rooted between economic lines.

The rich socialites were all dressed in suits, unashamed to show their faces and flaunt their arm candy as they parked closer to the main roads and watched the racers congregate between the headlights like moths.

Two different worlds. One shrouded in mist and smoke from expensive cigars. One bloody raw and on display with the bass boosted trap music as its backing track. 

The _zero-yon_ drag races began abruptly from the moment the clock ticked over to midnight, being run along the stretch of land that directly parallel to the ocean while the rest of the attendees were parked further up the zone. There was no rhyme or reason to who was racing when and from what direction - but (Name) was quick to pick up on the faces that seemed to be the Top Dogs in the area.

Case and point, they kept their eyes on the man shaking hands with Yuuji on the other side of the drag racing track. They watched as he reached into his coat and pulled out a roll of notes, unfurling it quickly and handing it to his partner, who took it in both hands and quickly counted the notes while he continued his discussion with the mask-clad blond.

Whispers from the other racers parked nearby labelled him as either a high-up _kyodai_ or the next heir to a faction of the _Inagawa-kai_. He was a recurring figure at most meets in the Tokyo-Yokohama area and was a notorious big spender.

“He’s got shit taste f’he wants ta buy the Lexus.” 

(Name) swallowed the laugh that threatened to burble out of their throat. They couldn’t let him know that they agreed, not when they were doing so well with the whole ‘We Don’t Get Along’ Routine they had when Yuuji was around. “The LC 500 isn’t _that_ ugly.”

“Teru’s drivin’ was though.” They puffed out their cheeks with a head bob.

“Wasn’t uglier than the Lambo backfiring.” They both looked towards the bright red Lamborghini and the driver who was hunched over the hood of his car as he inspected the engine. “No one’s gonna risk investing in something like that; not even if he can prove it was a one-off.”

“How ‘bout ya go over there n’fix it for him?”

“Fuck off. I’m off the clock.”

“Incoming.” Suna grumbled through his mask, covered chin jutting out towards a pair of figures approaching on his side of the car. 

(Name) swivelled and slid off the hood, feet planted on the concrete as the figures were illuminated by the headlights of the Corvette and Cadillac. 

Windbreaker clad, the two figures approached with an air of confidence they often attributed to veterans on the racing scene. One obscured his face in a similar manner to (Name) and Suna while the other didn’t seem to care about obscurity, grinning warmly as he approached with quick footsteps.

“You’re Koji, right.”

They nodded, directing their attention to the man in the surgical mask as his voice reached their eyes. (Name) nodded, angling their chin at him. That voice was familiar. As was the medical mask paired with two moles above his right eye.

“We raced at the Akagi last year, right?” They clicked their fingers a few times, attempting to recall their meeting. “That Eclipse, right? With the green neon underglow?” They looked to Suna, who shook his head, a sign that he didn’t know the man’s name either.

“That’s Sakusa.” The shorter man supplied with a grin before he pointed to himself. “Komori - we didn’t expect to see you and your friends here.”

“Not our scene.” Suna repositioned himself against the hood of the Corvette. “S’a favour for a friend.”

“You won by less than a second in our _tōge_.” Sakusa deadpanned, eyes almost small slits as he stared. “I want a rematch.”

(Name) pursed their lips, but nodded all the same. They could feel the burning warmth flood their veins at the mere thought dirtying the concrete with burn marks. “Sure. We can’t really _tōge_ here, but a _zero-yon_ sprint will do, right?”

“It’s all the same to me.” The man deadpanned, not bothering to give (Name) another glance before he turned and walked back the way he came towards his car.

Komori whipped his head around to stare at his friend’s retreating form, back to the pair in front of him.

“Thanks for indulging him,” he bowed his head slightly, “we don’t get around to Gunma a lot so it’d be a waste to let the opportunity go.”

They nodded in understanding, but not before Suna could interject. “How ‘bout you? Ya in for a race? We’ll go after these idjits.” The smile widened on the brunet’s face.

“It’s on.” And with that he turned around and followed suit of the curly-haired man, leaving the pair to their own devices.

“Eager much.” (Name) scoffed as they fished the keys out from their pocket. Suna snorted. 

“Just wanna get this car outta my face so we can go back home.”

With a very verbal snort, (Name) rounded the front of the car and unlocked the driver’s side door, quickly sliding and starting the engine in a fluid movement. 

(Name) pulled the car into a u-turn as they drove to the starting line marked by a bright line of spray paint illuminated by the surrounding tuner cars. There were three other duos lined up at the starting line, giving them time to calm the nerves and adrenaline that began.

Sakusa lined up to their right, the deep red Ferrari he drove was lower than their Corvette was, with black tinted windows and white headlights. Flashy, simple, but probably hiding some bullshit engine underneath it’s hood - maybe a nitro tank or two for fun.

They drummed their fingers on the wheel, letting their gaze fall back on to the course as each car in front of them left for their turn.

The person at the starting line followed the familiar movements to every other race (Name) had witnessed in their lifetime, and each race spanned over the course of a minute from the moment the cars left the starting point and crossed over and out of the way at the finish. 

It was only a four-hundred metre track. Ideally, any car on display that evening would finish their _zero-yon_ race in a bit over 10 seconds. That was the golden standard; the beginning hurdle that almost anyone could achieve. 

(Name) hadn’t the opportunity to test the potential of the Corvette, not even in the three hour drive from Gunma. 

They trusted in the idea that Ogano would have made sure the thing could perform decently in a sprint. 

And now that they were behind the wheel, all (Name) needed was themselves. 

Finally - _finally_ \- they were waiting at the front of the line, fingers dancing across the gear shift as they waited to launch.

In the distance, they watched as the racers before them finally crossed over the finish line and veered left towards the now vacant bidding area. They couldn’t tell who had won.

The person conducting the launch strolled out between the two cars, hands tapping on the windows either side of their body as they stood on the spray paint line. 

Sakusa revved his engine. (Name) followed suit.

Hands raised in the air, the man dropped them just as quickly.

(Name) launched, tires screeching as they spun and shot the car off the first few metres. They shifted from first into second just as quickly, feeling the speed force them back against their chair.

With a glance out of their peripheral, they caught the Ferrari keeping in time with them, the hum and roar of it’s engine mingling with their own.

A hundred metres down. They felt their palms and fingertips vibrate as they kept a firm grip on the wheel.

Still neck-a-neck. 

Past the two-hundred metre mark, (Name) kept their eyes bouncing between the speedometer, the stretch of land in front of them, and Sakusa in the next car. 

Whatever was inside that Ferrari was _leagues_ better than the bullshit that was in the car (Name) had raced on the Akagi.

But above all that, it was clear that he was more accustomed to a _zero-yon_ , what with how smoothly he was able to change gears and keep his traction and power balanced.

If it weren’t for the fact they were entangled in a race, (Name) would’ve been impressed.

Shifting gears, the car pulled forward in tandem with Sakusa’s, dancing between first and second as they crossed over the three-hundred metre mark.

(Name) couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from appearing on their face as the finish line grew closer, and closer.

But above the hum of the engine, and through the rumbling of eight tires tearing up the concrete, there was an unmistakable whining noise-

The flashing blue and red lights of police cruisers dotted the darkened skyline, not too far away from the beyond the finish line.

 _Police_.

They turned to their right, unable to see through their opponent’s tinted windows.

_Was this going to be game of chicken or-_

The Ferrari jerked, the sound of rubber screeching on asphalt was enough of a tell.

“ _Fuck’s sake_ -” They growled, pressing their foot down on the break before swinging the steering wheel left, letting the car spin out into a drift before they released the pedal and slammed down on the accelerator as they sped back the way they came.

From the scenes they caught in their rearview and side mirrors, the rest of the attendees took to scrambling into whatever cars were nearby in order to escape the howling police vehicles that were descending on to the Mihama Meet. 

In the chaos that happened beyond the walls of the car, they couldn’t see where Yuuji had fucked off to. Nor could they catch any sign of the Cadillac that was once parked at the starting line behind them. 

(Name) hissed and furrowed their brow as they turned a sharp right, back the way they had entered into the warehouse zone. 

They would find Yuuji and Suna some other time.

Their main goal right now was to get _the fuck outta there_ -

Swinging left, (Name) drove in the direction of the main road before turning a hard right and barrelling off in the opposite direction.

Police barricades lined the exits and escape routes towards the freeway, guarded with troves of police - in and out of cars - ready to make their arrests.

As (Name) pulled away, they noted that a cruiser broke formation to follow after them. A few seconds after, the rest of the Mihama Meet Up spilled onto the street.

Chaos erupted behind them, but they set their eyes back on to the road in front of them as their mind went into overdrive. 

(Name) was _definitely_ on their own now.

“Thought these fuckers would’ve _paid off_ the cops.” They growled, speeding through an intersection and narrowingly avoiding a few pedestrians in the process. “Gotta find a way back on to the Wangan Interchange.”

Their eyes danced from street sign to street sign, reading the blurred out kanji in an attempt to plot out a route. Behind them, the police car continued to hone in on them, blue and red lights flashing obnoxiously while they blared their annoying tone. 

(Name)’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, fingers flexing as they choked their frustration against the rubber. 

Their attempts to lose their tailing cruisers continued as (Name) began to weave through the different mainstreets that intersect the business district of the ward. They knew they needed to lose them if they wanted to get back to Nakanojō.

But the chances that Sun and Yuuji escaped without consequences was enough to keep them in their cat-and-mouse game.

The logic and hope that maybe, just maybe, they could pull successfully disappear behind the sprawling office buildings and warehouses was the only thing propelling them forward at this point. They knew they couldn’t leave the guys behind - even if they wanted to kick Yuuji in the teeth most days. 

Glancing back again, the distance was growing between them and their chaser.

Eyes darting to the front, they instinctively drifted right and pulled into barren street, one dotted with construction sites for buildings (Name) really didn’t give a shit about.

Chances were, they could get enough of a lead to pull in somewhere and hide for a while until they could get a hold of Yuuji or Suna.

It was ballsy, but worth a shot. 

The growl of the tires dragging across dirt reverberated into the cabin as they continued to drift around the corners of construction zones. Headlights darted from one surface to the next as (Name) continued their search, breathing heavily as they tried to find somewhere large enough to tuck their car away and have it be perfectly hidden by shadows. 

The lights of the trailing police car vanished, but they could still _hear_ the rumbling of its engine following them.

A few more sharp turns, (Name) circled around to one of the larger zones that sunk deep into the earth. If they could get far enough down and hide in one of the sides closer to the ocean then they would be able to wait out the police tailing them.

The tires squealed as they drifted behind the barrier, the sound of rocks kicking up into the undercarriage replaced the thrum of the engine for a moment. 

With a growl, (Name) tugged at the wheel in an attempt to pull out of the drift-

Only to _feel_ the steering wheel stutter in their grasp, as if stuck on-

The car spun 180 degrees before it collided with the barrier.

(Name) felt all the air leave their lungs as their mind formed a single thought. 

_Fuck, seatbe-_

They braced for impact as their body was thrown across the width of the cabin, a flash of pain shooting up their arm as it smashed against the now broken window, and their head bouncing against where their hand came up to shield their eyes from the broken glass. The gear shift was pushing against their ribcage. Their legs were tangled between the driver’s seat and steering wheel. 

The engine was still rumbling.

With what focus they held, (Name) kept their eyes shut and focused on the sounds that were readily flooding into the open cabin. 

There was nothing else besides the rumbling of the Corvette’s engine and their short, shallow breaths.

With a sigh, they relaxed, throwing their head back before they attempted to free their legs from their awkward positioning.

Their left arm throbbed. So did their forehead and temple. They moved, a last ditch attempt to alleviate the pain they felt in the chest,but to no avail. And their face was flaring up with a steady heat.

 _Dizzy_.

(Name) knew they needed to get out and get away from the car. The further away the better. They couldn’t smell any leaking gas, nor could they hear the telltale sounds of a burst pipe leaking carbon monoxide, but the chances of an explosion were always there - 

_Especially on a car you haven’t worked on properly._

The sound of the door opening was distant.

Faint.

But obnoxious.

Not unlike Yuuji when he woke up in the morning and decided it was okay to stomp around their house.

But enough to rouse them from the darkness that was pooling at the edges of their vision.

The remaining vignette faded away from behind their eyelids as the overhead light flickered on. 

“Oi, are ya-” The voice stuttered for a second, “(Name)?”

Another light source overpowered the soft, yellow tinge of the overhead. 

They peeled open their eyes, immediately squinting as they tried to lift and arm to shield their eyes. 

The leather seats creaked from the weight of someone leaning towards them. They could feel knee pressing near their thigh-

“Fucking… bright…” They rolled their head to the side, only to have the person grasp their chin and redirect their attention back towards them.

“Stay awake, yeah? Look this way for me, need ta see if ya have a concussion.”

They grumbled, rolling their head in order to pull their chin away from the person’s grasp. The hand followed suit, redirecting them again, thumb pressing into the bone a little firmer.

“Hey, (Name), c’mon, open ya eyes up for me real quick. Osamu, remember?” 

It was then (Name) finally let their gaze focus on the person staring back at them. Grey hair, dark hooded eyes.

“Bike dude…” They moaned, eliciting a half-hearted laugh from the biker before them.

“Yep, Biker Dude.” He confirmed, angling the light upwards so that he wasn’t blinding them while he leant in, staring them dead in the eye.

He sighed, switching off his phone’s flashlight, submerging them into darkness ever so slightly. 

“Can’t tell yet. M’getting ya out of here. Which ‘f yer arms hurts the least?”

(Name) shrugged their right shoulder, not able to brace for the shooting pain that surged up it as Osamu pulled at it, hoisting them into his arms and against his chest. One arm tucked against their back, the other at the bend of their knees, he rose to his full height and began jogging in a direction far away from the still rumbling Corvette.

A minute passed, and the warmth of the biker’s chest was gone and replaced with a cold leather seat. As they pressed their head into the headrest, they felt Osamu lower the seat ever so slightly, letting them spread out a little more in the space.

“Can you tell ‘f yer phone is on ya?”

(Name) nodded. “Jacket…” 

They felt his hands before they heard him move, pressing into the fabric as he felt around for the shape of their phone before he retrieved it and deposited it on their lap. 

The door shut. And suddenly the sounds were coming from the driver’s side as Osamu slid back into the seat and started driving once again. 

“Stay awake. Okay?” Osamu’s voice called out, making (Name) shift their head in an exhausted nod. “S’not promising but I’ll take it.”

For a moment, they swam in the silence, all before it was shattered by the sound of a ringtone.

“Phone…”

“S’yer one. Here.” 

Without looking, Osamu reached his left hand towards their lap to retrieve the phone, quickly answering the call and putting it on speaker before dropping it back down on their thighs.

“Oi! (Name)! Where the fuck did ya go? We’re tryna find you!”

(Name) groaned. “Yuuji, fucker, too loud…”

“Focus on drivin’, give it ‘ere.” Came Suna’s voice, followed by the quick fumbling of the phone on the other line. “How far d’ya get? We’re tryna lose the cops now but once we’re in the clear we’ll circle ‘round ta get ya.” 

“Put it on speaker, dipshit-”

“Focus on drivin’, asshat-”

“(Name), can you hear me? Where’d ya end up?”

“Wiped out…”

“Where?”

“Dunno… Industrial zone… East…”

“We’re on the other side of Mihama right now.” Suna replied. “Think you can hold on? We jus’ gotta lose some pigs an’ we’ll come back for ya.”

“(Name)’s with me, just get outta here.” Osamu’s voice was low, laced with concentration as he drove through the back streets of the Mihama ward.

“Osamu?” Yuuji’s voice rang out. “Oi, what happened-”

“The Corvette’s been totalled in a construction site east ‘f the meet. No salvaging it. M’getting (Name) somewhere where they can get checked.”

“We’ll come meet ya-”

“The Tokyo PD is ruthless Yuuji, yer better off gettin’ back ta Nakanojō while ya can. I’ll handle (Name).”

“He-”

“Consider us even,” Osamu continued, “for stoppin’ to help me fix my bike. I’ll get ‘em back to ya - good as new.”

There was the sound of hissing on the other end of the call, something covering the receiver, all before Yuuji sighed. “Give me a call when ya can.” The dial tone filled the cabin, all before the silence came crashing back down on them.

“Ya still awake?”

(Name) grumbled.

“F’ya fall asleep on me I’ll be real pissed.”

Groaning, (Name) tried to curl in on themselves, only to have a hand slap down on their stomach to keep them from doing so. 

“What’re you… Doing here…” They huffed out, the dark spots in their vision continuing to grow the longer they tried to stay awake.

“In Mihama?”

“ _Here_ …”

“Decided ta follow a copper that was chasin’ down a sorry sap in a Corvette. Didn’t expect _you_ ta be the one inside.” He quipped. “I was with a mate at the Meet, he’s a dumb car junkie like you.”

“M’not dumb.” (Name) gurgled out.

They didn’t hear Osamu’s response. 

* * *

_???; ???, Chiba Prefecture_

Everything hurt when they woke up.

And the fog that settled in their brain was cleared away with the sound of an incessant alarm.

 _No_ , _not alarm_.

 _Someone’s calling_.

By the time they were able to pry their eyes open, the ringing stopped. But that gave them all the time in the world to try and figure out where they were.

A bedroom was the first bet, what with their head and body being propped up with an assortment of pillows. Beige walls stared back at them as they regained their bearings, their left arm was wrapped and placed in a sling while their right arm rested against the expanse of their stomach. 

Their main guess would place them somewhere in Mihama. 

Maybe. 

Chiba, on a much larger scale, perhaps.

The events of the Mihama Meet were a blur. 

Their phone rang again, and with a shaky arm, (Name) felt around on the nightstand to their right to fumble for the device. Fingers clenched around the shape as they willed their body to stop screaming with every move they made, their sleep-addled mind trying to make sense of the Caller ID on the screen. 

_Ogano Daiki_.

(Name) answered the call, a groggy “Hello” gracing their ears as they answered. There was a sharp inhale of air before-

“Christ, (Name), you’ve been MIA for like, three days.”

They winced, nose scrunching up to try and relieve the tension forming on their forehead. 

“Sorry… Been sleeping… I think.” They grumbled, tucking their phone between their shoulder and ear as they used their good arm to help pull themselves upright.

“Are you okay?”

“Gimme a minute to figure that out, Daiki.” (Name) sighed as they sat up in place, resting their back against the headboard. They were gonna have to talk to him about it, and sooner was always better than later. _Especially_ when the truth involved the crashing of a car worth somewhere near the million yen mark. “No. M’not okay. But I ain’t important, about theMeet Up-”

“Yeah, about that, wanna explain? Cause Yuuji said you crashed the Corvette, but I have a deposit of 5 million in my account specifically labelled ‘For the Corvette’.”

They blinked, whether that was from the surprise of the stupor of sleep was beyond them in that moment.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’ll send the transfer notification if you don’t believe me.”

They waited for the punchline, but when it never arrived (Name) felt bile rise up in to their throat.

“That’s fake as _fuck_ , man - I didn’t even finish the _zero-yon_!”

“Then why is 5 million just _sitting_ in my account?!”

“I - _fuck_ , I don’t know Daiki! I crashed that shit in a random industrial zone I-” They snapped, hissing when their rib flared up with pain. (Name) heaved out a weighted breath before continuing, voice level and calm. “Who’s the transfer from?”

“It’s a dummy account.” The man sighed. “Account name is just some dumb keyboard smash; _IZKIFM_. I’m tryna get someone to trace it but no dice; it’ll probably be an offshore account or whatever. Chances are someone still wants that damn thing and found your burner in there to make the transfer.”

The events of the Mihama Meet played back in their mind.

Nothing stood out after the crash. And even the events in the lead up to their _zero-yon_ were blurry. As if it had never happened.

But it had happened.

How else would they be able to explain how _fucked_ they currently felt. 

“Look, Daiki, I’ll be fucking honest with you.” They whispered, eyes continuing to dart around the very bare room. “ _I have no idea where I am right now._ Give me, like, an hour, to figure the basics out before I start figuring out how you made a 400% profit for you.”

The man on the other end sighed at the admission. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. The money hit my account this morning and y’know how it is.”

“Is Yuuji with you?”

“Nah. He and Suna are running your garage right now. Want me to let them know you’re alright?”

“I’ll call them too.” (Name) sighed as they collapsed into the pillows once more. “Talk later.”

Without another word, they hung up and dropped the phone back onto the nightstand, mind reeling from the information overload of that morning. 

They laid there for a moment, trying to calm the thoughts zooming incessantly in their head while they exhaled as much of the tension in their body as they could.

_First things first. Figure out where you are._

_Then piece together what happened in Mihama._

_Getting back to Gunam is the least of your concerns._

_Get answers._

_Now._

(Name) groaned as they heaved themselves off the bed, hand reaching up to brace against the wall. With another deep breath, they closed their eyes, willing the dizziness to retreat to give them just an _hour_ of clarity.

When they opened their eyes again, they made their way around the bed towards the door, taking light, hesitant steps. Keeping their right hand extended, (Name) hobbled until they could rest their weight against the door, hand wrapped around the doorknob.

They shook as they swung the door open, gaze fluttering around to take in all the details of what lay before them.

Just like the bedroom they awoke in, the rest of (apartment? house?) the building was small, with a compact kitchenette connecting straight to a living room and then the _genkan_ just beyond that. Devoid of anything of that would present an image of the owner’s character, (Name) took to trudging through the hallway to get a sense of-

“Oh, yer awake.”

They whipped their head left, immediately regretting the action as they forced themselves to lean up against the wall, free hand rubbing at the flared up pain. 

Cracking one eye open, they recognised that familiar grey-haired man, who stood in the kitchenette with a warm smile.

“Hey.” They greeted, letting their hand drop back to their side when they noticed the biker’s gaze trained on where their palm made contact with the skin of their neck. “Osamu, right?”

He hummed. “Yeah. How’s yer arm?” He furrowed his brow as he gaze trailed up to let him look them in the eye. “C’mere, lemme ice ya face real quick. Still looks shit.” He gestured to the stools set up near the small island. 

With hesitant steps, (Name) took a seat at, eyes trained on the biker who took to wrapping ice from the freezer in a tea towel.

“This your place?”

He shook his head, spinning the cloth in order to tie it off. “Sorta. M’renting it while I have business here in Tokyo.” 

“What’d you do for a living?”

“I trade stocks.”

They nodded, blinking slowly as he rounded the island of the kitchen and hunched over them. One hand came up to hold the right side of their face while his other hand moved to press the ice against their skin. They hissed, making him flinch away. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine… You aren’t why I crashed.” They grumbled, shutting their left eye as the man continued to dab at the swelling. “Give it to me straight doc, how long do I have left to live?”

They caught the way the man rolled his eyes at their response, pressing a little harder into their skin in spite of them.

“If that’s how ya drive in Gunma then ya ain’t got much longer” He chided, continuing the ice compress. “Yer arm and shoulder were the worst. Bit of bruisin’ on yer ribs. Ya don’t have trouble breathin’, do ya?”

They shook their head. “I’m just sore.”

“Crashin’ will do that ta ya.” He hummed, pulling his left hand away so he could check over them once more.

He prodded at their ribcage, making them wince at the intrusion. But rather than a yelp of pain, something else slipped out of their mouth. 

“Did you go get the Corvette?”

Osamu lifted their right hand, angling it so it held the ice pack against their face while he continued to look them over.

“I had someone clean up for ya.” Osamu shrugged, nonchalant. “I told ya I was with a mate ‘f mine at Mihama, right? He liked the car while you were racin’. I had him fix up the situation for ya when I got ya check out.”

They narrowed their eyes at the crown of his head, unsure of whether or not they needed to drop how much money his friend decided was enough to clean up the situation. 

But logically, if he worked in stock trading and was attending the infamous Mihama Meet with another friend, then what were the chances that the money spent on a totalled Corvette was simply just a drop in the ocean for him? 

“That thing was busted.” That was the easier route to go down. 

“The guy ain’t as talented as ya are, but he’s alright.” The grey-haired man chuckled. “He’s probably gonna resell it after he fixes it anyway, don’t sweat it. It’s payback. For stoppin’ ta fix up this asshole’s bike at ass o’clock in the evenin’.”

Osamu took that moment to stand up again, patting their good shoulder. “Nothin’ else seems ta be out of place. ‘F yer up for it, I can take ya back ta Nakanojō today.”

(Name) frowned when their gazes met. “I might end up sleeping the entire way back.”

Osamu snorted. “That’s fine with me ‘f it means ya end up feelin’ better.”

“I can make my way back.” 

“Kinda promised Yuuji I’d get ya home myself.” He admitted. “I called him yesterday ‘bout it since they’ve had ta open up the garage without ya.”

They narrowed their eyes at him, trying to get a read on him. While he held the same sheepish nature from when they first met, there was something different that was hiding beneath the surface, something that had been obscured by the shroud of evening on the side of the highway.

If they were in any other condition, they would’ve pressed - would have been more forceful and unafraid to ask how and where his friend was able to get 5 million yen on such short notice.

But instead they remained silent, and nodded at the offer. “If it’s not too much to ask.”

Osamu smiled and squeezed their good shoulder. “Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

(Name) gave him a tight lipped smile in return.

 _Stay wary_ , a voice in their mind chimed.

As if they needed the reminder.

* * *

_Nakanojō, Gunma Prefecture_

Yuuji was waiting for them as Osamu pulled into the driveway of the town house, not bothering to cut off the engine as the blond sprinted to the passenger side of the door and threw it open.

True to their word, (Name) had slept for most of the drive, soft snores passing through slightly parted lips while Osamu listened to the directions that were displayed on the GPS.

“Is everything alright with them?”

Osamu nodded, turning his torso to face the new presence as he inspected the bruise on the side of his friend’s face. “Banged up, but they’ll live. A bad case of whiplash and some bruisin’ on their ribs but their spine is fine. Coulda been worse.”

“And the Corvette?”

“I handled it.” He admitted. “Payback for the help yer both gave me in Sanada.”

Yuuji huffed, poking at the mechanic’s face and watching them wince, unable to lift a finger to bat his finger away.

“Ya didn’t have to drive ‘em back here. I could’ve gone up myself.” He grumbled, glancing up at the man staring at the two of them.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. And besides, I had something to take care of nearby.” The grey-haired man shook his head. “We’re even now. Friends, even.”

Yuuji opened his mouth, but slowly closed it when he noticed (Name) stir ever so slightly. Their brow twitched and furrowed, tense and in pain.

“I’ll take it from here then. Seriously, thanks.”

Osamu waved the gratitude away, “Tell (Name) I hope they recover soon.”

With a curt smile, Yuuji hoisted (Name)’s good arm around his shoulder and his arm around their waist before pulling them up and shutting the door with his foot. Once outside the vehicle, he adjusted again and took to helping the slowly awakening mechanic into the confines of their home.

The man waited for a moment - just until the pair were further up the pathway to the front door - before he decided to leave.

As he pulled out of the driveway, Osamu caught a glimpse of dark hair parted down the centre, and a set of tired eyes peering out from the _genkan_ at his car. 

He scoffed, eyes narrowed before he redirected his attention back to the road. 

“Good to see you too, Rintarō.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise to get better at writing action sequences.
> 
> i also listened to way too much japanese rap while writing this chapter, and while planning the next few updates. the hypothetical soundtrack for this fic is lit, lemme tell you.
> 
> thank you for the warm reception to Driver's High! im very excited to share the rest with you all!


	3. float

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'll light the fuse of this metallic heart of mine._
> 
> //
> 
> Feelings stir, some unwelcomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry i rewrote this chapter almost five different times because Atsumu was being Trash. but i finished it because despite his Trashness he is (unfortunately) my favourite twin

_Nakanojō, Gunma Prefecture_

The next few days thatfollowed (Name)’s arrival home from Mihama were a flurry of visitations mixed in with lingering silence between themselves and their housemate. 

Daiki was the first to arrive in their house upon hearing of their return home, wide-eyed and incredulous as he tried to get answers for the Corvette payout.

(Name) answered as best they could, giving Daiki the same answers Osamu had given them when they inquired about the purchase. An acquaintance of the person who had helped them had their eye on the Corvette the entire night and decided to assist with a favour of good will.

(“That much money is _more_ than a favour.” Daiki had said, exasperated. But even with his disbelief, there was an underlying relief at the security the paycheck bought him.)

And not long after the Shinzen garage came and left, Ubugawa arrived at Yuuji’s request. Their resident medic Nanasawa gave (Name) the full examination with the team’s import manager Miyanoshita by his side.

True to the rundown Osamu gave them when they first woke up after the accident, most of the damage was sustained in their upper body - specifically their left arm and shoulder. 

True to the assessment Osamu gave them when they first woke up after the accident, most of the damage was sustained in their upper body - specifically their left arm and shoulder. The bruising around their ribs would fade, as would the contusion they sustained across the left side of their face. 

(“The good thing is that you lived, no?” Miyanoshita hummed as they helped (Name) pull their clothes back on. “When Terushima was calling us, he said that it seemed bad from how you answered his call.”

(Name) shrugged their good shoulder. “I mean, I didn’t _flip_ the car, which is always a good thing.”)

And in the days after their check-up, (Name) and Yuuji tried to fall back into some semblance of a rhythm they were familiar with.

But synchronisation was hard to achieve when the blond walked on eggshells around them. 

While (Name) wanted nothing more than to return to the garage and camp out the back in their office, Yuuji demanded that they were to stay as far away from the place as humanly possible, taking it upon himself to handle the day-to-day operations with the help of the Shinzen guys and Suna.

(Name) wasn’t exactly _comforted_ having dark brown eyes trained on their body whenever the two of them were at home together. Nor were they at all _reassured_ when they caught Yuuji flinching whenever they flinched, his arms twitching as if he was ready to catch them if they fell. 

If anything, it was a bother to know that they needed to be cared for, _especially_ when they were already well into their late twenties. 

And a little over a week on from the accident at Mihama, (Name) snapped. 

“I can do things myself, y’know.” 

They frowned at him as the words slipped out of their mouth, pointedly ignoring the dull ache in their shoulder and the itch of their bandaged and slung up arm. 

Yuuji tensed from where he stood near the sink, not bothering to glance back at them from where they sat in the lounge. 

“Like, yeah, I crashed, big deal. I can still take care of myself-”

“I know you can.” Yuuji interjected, nodding his head ever so slightly. “Trust me, I _know_.”

“Then you can lay off for a bit, right?”

He kept his voice even, calm, as he continued. “Ya gotta remember that you did this exact same thing for me when you pulled me outta the Agatsuma, right? And we both know that even if I was stubborn about being okay, I really wasn’t… Don’cha think it’s about time I paid you back for keeping me alive.”

“I don’t need you to even out the scales.” They rolled their eyes, straightening out their back as they sat up in place at the dining table. 

“I know that.” The blond sighed as he placed both hands on the countertop. WIth another breath of air, he turned to look over his shoulder at his housemate. “But it’s less about ya _needing_ it and more about me _wanting_ to.”

The light barely reflected in his eyes as he stared back at them, lips pursed in what could only be disappointment as Yuuji regarded the mixture of discomfort and disapproval still lingering on (Name)’s features. 

“If ya didn’t want someone doting on ya then ya should’ve left me in that river to die. ‘Cause ya can tell I’m _the most_ considerate person on the east coast just by lookin’ at me.” 

It was then that he turned around to face them, mirth and humour adorned his face. But the concern still lingered in his eyes.

“Yeah,” they agreed, “nothing screams ‘Parental Figure’ than a bleeding, tattooed _bosozoku_ boy face down in a river bed.”

Yuuji nodded, grin widening. “Just like Moses.”

“Yeah, that’s not how that happened”

With a quick flick of his wrist, Yuuji launched a tea towel at their face as he turned back to the sink, signalling the end of whatever rant was ready to be had by the injured mechanic.

(Name) frowned, gaze still directed at the blond’s back; rigid, tense - as if waiting for them to continue the disagreement.

But it never came.

* * *

That night, (Name) dreamt for the first time in forever.

They were driving.

A long stretch of highway, framed by undulating hills of green and a horizon painted in hues of gold. 

Right hand loosely wrapped around the steering wheel, their left lingered idly on the gearshift. The asphalt was smooth, with no resistance as they sped through the dreamworld. The GTR’s engine was almost silent, and the only tells that (Name) was moving was the speed their surroundings were passing them by. 

There was a faint melody that filled the cabin of the car. 

So faint. 

Almost non-existent. 

Idyllic. 

Something rustled to their left, making them take their eyes off the road for a brief second.

A familiar figure, with bright eyes and a carefree smile.

A younger version of themself. 

The two faced each other. 

And in that same breath, there was nothing - 

Nothing but a searing pain up from their lower back and down to the tips of their toes as the world crashed around them, shattering the emerald fields and golden skies into diamond dust.

No longer was the engine running and filling the silence of their dreamworld.

Instead, their thoughts were punctuated with the sounds of pained groaning and gasps for air.

Older. 

A voice, almost long forgotten in the river of time-

(Name) awoke with wide eyes and a painful gasp of air, their non-injured arm clutching at their hip as their eyes tried to make out the shapes in the darkness. 

The hand still in a sling reacted to a subtle brush of skin against their own, tightening as a warning as light flooded the room around them.

Yuuji stared back at them, kneeling at their bedside with his freehand resting on the nightstand to his left. Wordlessly, he kept his gaze locked with their own as he breathed, steadily, slowly. 

He squeezed their own, a sign to try and keep in time with him.

They didn’t say anything to each other.

(Name) really couldn’t bring themselves to say _anything_ when their mind was still reeling with the images their dream had provided.

Mihama hadn’t burned that badly, hadn’t caused their throat to squeeze shut from how sudden it was.

Then again, Mihama was only a recent crash; a fresh memory that lingered in front of something older, but still raw. 

It was only when (Name) exhaled, deeply, and steadied the shake in their shoulders that Yuuji stood back up. He helped them lay back onto the mattress, tucking the blankets around them a little tighter.

With one final squeeze, he shut the bedside lamp off before retreating out of the darkened bedroom and into the illuminated hallway. 

At some point, (Name) fell back asleep.

Dreamless.

* * *

Yuuji wasn’t home when (Name) woke the next morning. And considering the fact the head mechanic was a very early riser, they could only assume the blond left not long after he kept them from falling out of bed the evening before. 

There was rice cooked on the stove and a rolled omelet in the fridge from lunch the day before, and (Name) navigated haphazardly around the kitchen with one functioning arm in order to reheat their meal. 

A struggle, yes, but _completely_ doable.

Even if it _did_ take more than double what it would have taken with Yuuji was there to hover around them.

But that was neither here nor there. They were able to eat without his help and that was all that mattered.

The rest of the morning passed quietly and turned into a day just as quiet as all the others they experienced while being in their enforced lockdown. 

The neighbour they and Yuuji lived in was quiet, a simple residential district that gladly turned the blind eye to the obvious _hashiriya_ living in the house at the end of the street. The usual ambience came from groups of grandparents huddling in the shade of townhouses, or the laughter of toddlers not yet required to be enrolled in school or daycare running up and down their street. 

The midday sun washed over the lounge room in what seemed like a blink of an eye. (Name) hadn’t moved from where they lay on the couch, the good side of their body growing numb from the position they stayed in. 

The sound of the front door unlocking caught their attention and made their ears tingle.

The heavy wooden door swung open, quickly followed by the sound of the new entrant shuffling in the _genkan_. 

_Yuuji?_

“I bought lunch f’yer hungry.”

 _Rintarō_.

Which was strange. 

Suna was never at their house unless Yuuji was also there. 

“I’m alright. Still full from breakfast.” The mechanic answered, adjusting the hold they had on the pillow tucked under their head.

The man hummed in response as he padded softly into the kitchen, the sound of rustling plastic bags filling the silence between. And then his footsteps came closer and closer. 

“How’re ya feeling?”

He asked, his hand tapping at their waist as a signal to make room for him. (Name) obliged as they grumbled in response, shuffling closer to the back of the couch. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve crashed.” 

The man huffed, taking up the space cleared for him. “So-?”

“Shitty.”

“Because ya crashed or because yer still injured?”

“Yes.”

The raven-haired man breathed out a chuckle before his body hunched back into the usual cuve (Name) was used to seeing. “Yuuji said you had a rough night.”

(Name) stiffened, arms moving across their chest in order to cross themselves. “Got back to sleep.”

 _Eventually_.

“I ain’t gonna make ya talk ‘bout it, don’t worry.” There was humour in Rintarō’s voice, borderline teasing. “But with how shaky Yuuji’s been - musta been a bad one.”

They exhaled deeply, keeping their back turned.

“I don’t crash often.” The confession rolled off their lips, almost as breathy as a shy whisper. “I’d like to think I’m a decent drifter. I know my limits and shit.”

The shadow casted by Suna’s silhouette signalled he nodded, and then angled his head back down to face them.

“When was it, the _last_ time?”

“Well before Yuuji decided the Agatsuma was a good hiding spot.” (Name) said, reluctance rolling off them in waves. “I was... Nineteen? I don’t know. Time gets all fucked when you stop thinking about it.”

Rintarō’s shadow nodded again before he turned back around, letting his back lean against their waist as he reclined every so slightly. “Yuuji knows?”

“Yuuji knows. Most of the teams around here know. Ain’t a big secret. It’s probably why they’re concerned.”

He didn’t respond.

Not verbally, at least.

Instead he raised a hand and patted their shoulder, thumb brushing a circle into the sore skin before he let it linger there.

“At least ya came out f’it alright.”

(Name) nodded. “Could've been worse.”

“Coulda been dead.” The severity in his tone caught them off guard. 

“Lucky I got followed then, huh. Funny how the universe works, right?”

Rintarō nodded half-heartedly. If he was perturbed by their relaxed response he didn’t show it. Instead he pressed, finally speaking the words he had been waiting to say for a week. 

“Speakin’ of... This ‘Osamu’ guy,” the words came out soft, laced with a trepidation that (Name) would have never attributed to Suna Rintarō, “what’d he look like?”

The mechanic blinked, angling their head to look at the man seated by their waist. He kept his gaze forward, hands folded in his lap as he waited for an answer. 

“Had an undercut. Grey hair, dark eyes. Tired looking kinda guy.” (Name) rambled as they slowly rolled over, shoulders resting against the cushion that once cradled their head. “Tall. Dorito looking.”

Rintarō’s head whipped around to face them. (Name) let their right hand trace the length of their shoulders, only to finish tracing an inverted triangle above their torso as a visual demonstration. The brunet remained stoic. “Yer a comedian.” 

“It’s the truth though! It’s a defining feature! Not everyone has an inverted triangle for a torso!” They retorted, pointedly looking at their friend’s lanky form.

In the silence that lingered, (Name) watched the different flashes of emotion appear on Rintarō’s face, illuminating it the same way street lights would as they drove down the highway in the dead of night.

But though they appeared, they quickly disappeared in the same moment of recognition.

 _Just five seconds_ , (Name) grumbled to themselves internally, _five seconds of vulnerability is all I ask._

“Should I have stayed in the car and let it explode?” 

He sighed, shoulders briefly tensing before they sunk a little lower than his normal hunch. “Nah, s’just…” Rintarō arched his back, letting his upper body bend over them, head coming into contact with the body of the couch. “I used ta know a guy that sounds like that. Same name ‘n all.” 

(Name) nodded, bottom lip pulled between their teeth for a brief moment. “Might just be a same name situation.”

“Prolly. S’been a few years.” There was a darkness in his eyes, absorbing the light that so desperately tried to reflect against the yellow-grey irises. “I still don’t trust ‘im.”

“Is this guy the reason why you never wanna step foot in Hyōgō again?” 

The brunet’s tongue poked his cheek out ever so slightly as it moved across his top row of teeth, head still directed up at the ceiling. His eyebrow twitched. 

“Sorta.” Came his admittance, hands stretching out of the fists they had balled themselves in to. “Yuuji and his _bosozoku_ bounty are wild, sure, but the guy ain’t got nothin’ on the shit I went through down south.”

The severity in Rintarō’s voice made a shiver run down their spine. He was telling the truth. Yuuji did some bad things, sure, ran with the wrong crowd and all - but the composure that propped up the man’s words was far too strained. As if hiding a hurt that ran deeper than any wound ever could.

(Name) threw their arm over their eyes dramatically, letting out their own sarcastic sigh. “I’m just harbouring _fugitives_.”

It was his turn to snort, shedding away whatever malice he held for the mysterious Osamu like a coat. “Yer an illegal street racer. Yer jus’ as bad as we are.”

They nodded, lips pursed into a pout while their good hand wagged a finger. “Fair point. Still. If it's a mountain pass then it’s all fair game. _You_ shady shitheads?”

Without batting an eye, Suna landed a solid hit on (Name)’s stomach, skin hitting skin with a dull _thwack_ , forcing the mechanic to hunch up slightly.

“Deserved that.” They groaned, brows pinching together while they caught the subtle nod of Suna’s head. “But you know you said it, not me.”

“F’that helps ya sleep at night.” He answered, adjusting where his head rested on the couch.

For what it was worth, the moment they shared was over. A rarity in their relationship since he and Yuuji entered whatever their own relationship actually was. But (Name) had to admit, this was the most they had gotten from the secretive man.

An exchange. That’s what this was. 

A brief instance of trust at their most vulnerable, and vice versa. 

And if it had to come out as a result of them crashing, then maybe - they thought to themselves - they could make an exception to their own reservations. 

Just this once. 

“I’m actually feeling a bit hungry.” (Name) announced after the silence had settled, pulling themselves to sit upright while Rintarō moved off of them. “What’d you get?”

“Gyōza. I’ll reheat it for ya.” He answered, not bothering to look back at them while he moved towards the kitchen. “The shop owner down the road from the garage came t’drop it off. Said he heard about the crash from Ogano.”

“Big mouth.” (Name) growled out, making a note to yell at Daiki the next time he came to visit. “Did he leave enough for all of you?”

“I brought everythin’ that was left over.” He admitted, mirth dancing in his tone. “Yuuji’s fatass was the first t’go through the delivery.”

(Name) rolled their eyes, letting their gaze follow the lanky brunet as he weaved through the kitchen, moving to unpack their lunch and reheat it in the microwave.

Over the low hum of the machine, a thought crossed their mind.

“Oi, Rin.”

He hummed.

“The Osamu you know... What’s his last name?”

(Name) watched as his back tensed, quickly followed by the tight circles he rolled his shoulders in - as if working out a long sustaining injury.

“Miya. Miya Osamu.” He turned to look at them over his shoulder. “How ‘bout yer one?”

They shook their head. “Just Osamu.”

Suna turned back to look at the dull orange light from the microwave.

They didn’t speak of the stranger again. 

* * *

Whatever lingered between (Name) and Yuuji quelled not long after their nightmare, and was quickly replaced with the former’s agitation at whatever scheme the latter was in the process of planning.

A week of dodging the question led to him cornering them, only this time they were brushing their teeth in the bathroom.

“Where are you planning on kidnapping me this time?” They asked, deadpanned, as they watched Yuuji’s brow twitch in annoyance.

“How’d you guess that so quickly?”

“My idiot sense started tingling and you’re the only one here.”

The blond clicked his tongue at the comment, waving a and dismissively as he began his proposition, spreading his body out in the doorway, back pressed up against on one side of the frame. “Were you up for a road trip?”

“How far? Hyōgō far?”

“Yamabe.”

They blinked.

“Yamabe, _Nara_ ?” Their exasperation reverberated against the beige tiles. Yuuji nodded, ignoring their fatigue. “I don’t think there’s anything to _do_ in Yamabe.”

“There’s a course that’s down there designed solely for drifting. One of the guys I was talking to at Nishinomiya knows the owner-”

“Yakuza debt, got it-”

“And he mentioned that they’ve got a comp happening this weekend. Fastest drift time gets the pot prize. Entry is only ¥10,000-”

(Name) let out a low whistle. “That’s cheaper than what Kodera charges for his races.”

“Yeah well, these guys ain’t as scummy as Kodera is.” He retorted quickly. “I mean, they’re _yakuza_ , they’re pretty scummy, but they ain’t _completely_ bad-”

“Because you know them?”

“They haven’t thrown me in a river yet!”

“And is that why I’m coming? To make sure you remain out of a river?”

Yuuji’s mouth fell open, words dying on his tongue while his eyes inspected his friend standing in front of him. “You not up for racing yet? But your arm’s all better now, right?”

“It’s still a little sore.” They rolled their left shoulder, damp right hand coming up to ease its rotation. There’s a slight click between the bones, but they ignore the strange sensation of the faint pop of air. “Shifting gears would be a little shitty.”

“Another reason why drifting is _so much_ better with an automatic transmission.”

Without pause, (Name) reached for the hand towel resting on the basin top and whipped it into Yuuji’s face. “Don’t you dare say those words to my face ever again.”

He laughed, removing the towel and throwing it back at them. “I’m kidding! Geez, twitchy as ever.”

“It’s not twitchy if it’s _facts_.” They retorted with a click of their tongue, picking the towel back up and folding it back over the rack. “But no. I’m not really in the mood.”

The humour on the blond’s face wavered so slightly, a flame struggling to stay alight in the presence of a frigid wind. “Y’know you can say-”

“I’m not scared.” 

The words didn’t feel like a lie as they left her lips, but the doubt written on their friend’s face told them that he didn’t believe it any more than they themselves did. 

“I like competing with people I _know_ will give me a challenge.” (Name) continued, turning back to face the mirror and finish washing their face. “Whatever race is on down in Nara is probably gonna be filled with amateurs, for sure.”

“That’s why I figured you’d want in on this.” Yuuji admitted. “Cheap entry, near track that you haven’t raced before, and _chumps_ \- it’s easy money.”

It was.

And so was Mihama.

“Look, you don’t hafta come alo-”

“No, no, I’ll tag along.” (Name) sighed, left hand coming up to rub at their temple, “Someone has to make sure you don’t piss off some _yakuza_ and end up dead in a ditch. Or worse. A dam.”

“Didya wanna help me practice drifting too? Maybe check my engine and steering? Y’know, like _actually_ helpful shit that will help me win the pot?”

“Yeah, nah. That’s all on you."

(Name) blinked.

“I gotta take a leak, get outta here.”

In a flash they were in front of Yuuji, pushing against his sternum while they tried to close the door on his face.

“(Name)!”

“Let me pee!” They yelled with finality, door slamming shut in its frame, leaving a disgruntled Yuuji standing behind it.

“I thought we were friends, man!” He sighed, despondent. 

A beat passed.

(Name) peeked their head out again. “Bright and early, before work tomorrow.”

And they were gone again, leaving Terushima Yuuji fuming and groaning behind the closed door once more. 

* * *

_Meihan Sportsland; Yamazoe, Yamabe District, Nara Prefecture_

Though Nara wasn’t as far as their previous endeavours south, (Name) and Yuuji still left relatively early from Nakanojō, it was still a trip that warranted an early start if Yuuji was to compete. By the time they arrived at the relatively sized circuit, there was already a crowd of a few hundred people clustered in between the old metal and wood grandstands and the parking bay near the track. On the course was a silver Subaru Impreza that was already streaking dark trails on the asphalt. 

(Name) frowned at the screech of the tires and watched as the end of the car shook, unsteady. 

“It really is Novice County.” They grumbled, jutting their chin to make sure Yuuji got a good look at his competition currently tearing up the track. “You might have a shot after all.”

“Didya really think I was gonna _lose_?”

(Name) shifted their cap lower onto their head. 

“Oh good, food stands.”

“(Name)!”

“Oi! Terushima!”

The pair turned their heads to the voice calling out to the blond, both gazes settling on the registration tent and the man and woman standing in front of it. 

Yuuji grinned, moving quickly to clap the dark-haired on the shoulder in greeting while dragging the (h/c)-haired mechanic behind him. “Hey, Futakuchi you bastard! Nametsu! Good to see you, keeping this shithead in line?”

“Says the guy still tryna start shit with everyone back home in Sendai,” Futakuchi laughed, landing a solid punch in the man’s shoulder. “Who’s this? Your bodyguard.”

“Walking bail out more like.” (Name) laughed, extending their own out to the two people before them. “Kadenokoji. Nice to meet you.”

“Name’s Futakuchi. This is Nametsu-”

“Call me Mai, you deserve it if you’ve been deal with Terushima-kun-”

“He’s a nightmare, really. Thanks for keeping him outta trouble for this long.”

“Don’t worry about it. So you two are running this?”

“The Datekō Group helps keep tabs on this place out of good will.” Futakuchi confirmed with a tight smile.

The innuendo wasn’t lost on them. The Datekō- _gumi_ was a _yakuza_ group operating in the northern part of the mainland; from whispers on the street they had only recently begun dabbling in the world of the _hashiriya_.

“You gonna race, Kadenokoji-san?”

They shook their head, resting their hand between Yuuji’s shoulder blades and giving him a soft nudge forward. “Biker Boy is though, so if you can make his death look like an accident out there, that’d be great.”

The proud grin the blond wore immediately faded, morphing into a look of disdain. “Hey! Don’t encourage that typa shit!” His head whipped back around to his acquaintances. “You two better let me go out in a blaze of glory if you do try and kill me!” 

“Alright, I’ll tell Aone-san to aim for the tires. It’ll make the car do a flip.” 

At that point, a curly haired man poked his head out from the flaps of the red and white tent, eyes glaring daggers at-

“Futakuchi! Stop slacking off! You too Nametsu-san!”

The pair jolted upright, with the woman immediately parting open the entrance a little wider and gesturing manically to Yuuji. “Let’s get your registration started Terushima-kun, we can have you racing in the half hour or so-”

“Did you need a place to stay for a bit, Kadenokoji? We can keep you up with some of our boys up in the observation tower if you want. Any friend of Teru’s is also unfortunately a friend of ours.”

They shook their head at Futakuchi’s offer, “I’ll pass. You all seem like you’ve got your hands full today. And I can look after myself.”

The brunet hummed. “Sure thing, but if you do need help just look for one of us and we’ll come running.”

With one last wave, (Name) weaved their way back through the crowd, their gaze dancing to the track to keep an eye on the competitor doing their lap. With each turn, (Name) couldn’t help but flinch at the mishandling of the new racer tackling the course; a red Mitsubishi. 

From what Yuuji told them in preparation for the event, each competitor was entitled to 3 laps around the course and their fastest lap would be counted as their final entry. The driver with the fastest overall lap would win the pot. A simple enough premise but-

‘A sloppy performance overall,’ they thought as they climbed the stairs and slotted themselves into the back corner of the grandstands, leaning forward to continue their analysis.

“Ora? (Name)!”

(Name) snapped out from their train of thought, blinking the haze that was forming in their eyes. They made a mental note to check with Rintarō if this Osamu had a brother, or the innate ability to duplicate himself. 

They turned to their right, letting themselves focus on the all-too familiar form of Atsumu, who approached with hands in his pockets and a look of faux disbelief on his features. His blond hair was tucked underneath a backwards baseball cap, a pair of dark tinted glasses hid his bright eyes. 

“Didn’t expect ta see _you_ here.” The blond smirked, sitting down next to them in the bleachers, elbows braced against his knees while he cocked his head to stare at them. They barely caught the shape of his hooded lids through the glare of the sun above them. “Didn’t think a _professional_ like yerself would join the scrubs here.”

“And you’re exactly where I thought I’d find you.” (Name) fired back, unable to keep their own smug grin from curling onto their face. “With _all_ your scrubby brethren.” 

The man laughed, mouth curling into a sneer. “I ain’t racin’ today.”

“Neither am I.”

“And yet yer a long way from home.”

“Teru’s racing.”

“Teru?”

“My second.” They explained. “Y’know, the person you could’ve met if you didn’t fuck off like a coward after we raced.”

His laugh was dark and melodic, a deep timbre that rumbled his chest and seemingly echoed around them. Atsumu slid his glasses off and hooked them on the collar of his dark blue shirt, no longer hiding from them.

“He must be shit f’he’s racin’ _here._ ”

(Name) couldn’t stop the laugh from leaving their throat, an admission they had not wanted to give him. “He’s better with a motorcycle, for sure. But behind the wheel of a car he’s better than the racers that are driving here.”

“Oh really?” He asked. “Yer trained all-seeing eye can tell, aye?”

“Course. Everyone’s making the same mistake you make.” His tongue poked out against his cheek at their comment. “Speed doesn’t mean you’re gonna get a good time in a drift race - especially when you’re the only one-”

“Hol’ on a sec’.” 

The man gripped the brim of their cap, lifting it up so that the midday sun could properly wash over their skin, highlighting the still fading bruise that covered the left-hand side of their face. In the same movement, his index finger ghosted behind their chin, loosely guiding their face to stare dead on into his own. His lips curved into a frown, pupils narrowing as he focused on the darkened contusion that still lingered from their temple and trailed to the midpoint of their forehead and under their left eye-socket.. 

“Personal space, dipshit.” (Name) growled out, smacking his hand away in the same movement they jerked away from his grip. Atsumu wore an almost scandalised look before it dropped back into his bemused smirk.

“Whaddya do? Go n’ fuckin’ crash like a plebe?”

The answer died in their throat.

Because there really wasn’t any shame in a bad crash - even the best racers (Name) came to know in their short life had some bad spills down a mountainside. And those who looked down on people who wiped-out already raced in a way that led them closer and closer to a crash they couldn’t come back from.

So logically, no harm came from admitting something that was as normal as a dirty cop. 

And despite the fact (Name) could count their meetings with Atsumu on one hand, they couldn’t bring themselves to admit the obvious. 

“Ya good?”

“Fine.” (Name) assured, leaning so the rest of their body weight rested on their left side. They didn’t care if it strained their shoulder. “Got out of it alive. Sold the car. It was a win-win.”

There was a beat of silence as recognition registered across Atsumu’s face. 

For a moment, he seemed apologetic. Sympathetic.

 _Almost_.

“Mihama, huh.”

(Name) didn’t answer. 

Internally, they groaned at the fact that he was able to put two and two together so quickly.

(Why couldn’t he have been an idiot?)

“I had a friend drivin’ that night, said they found a wrecked car after pigs crashed the meet. No driver in sight, just a totalled fuckin’ Corvette in t’foundations of a warehouse bein’ built.”

They bit the fat of their cheek. “Coure you knew someone driving that night.” (Name) grumbled. “It’s fucking _Mihama_ , _everyone_ knows someone driving at that meet.”

Atsumu exhaled quickly through his nose. “F’it’s any consolation; ya got a rare Mihama experience. Normally those asswipes are better at buying off t’pigs. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone went and fucked it up on purpose to fuck over someone buyin’ shit.” 

“Sure.” Came their curt response. 

(Name) had tried to rationalise that as well in their recovery, had tried to place blame on a lot of other factors. Fact of the matter was, _they_ were the ones who failed to notice the warning signs that something wasn’t right with their drive, who failed to notice that they were going to crash until it was too late-

A sharp pain flared up between their shoulder blades, making them hiss between clenched teeth as they finally registered the feeling of Atsumu’s warm, large palm against their upper back. 

“Lemme grab ya lunch.” 

Their eyes widened, “Hey, no, it’s fine-”

“Nah, I was a dick just then. Lemme get ya somethin’. We’ll be even then.”

“I don’t think that’s how apologies work-”

“It’s how they work in Hyōgō, trust me.” He tapped their right shoulder twice as he stood up - softer than his initial slap - moving past them towards the stairs and jogged down and out of sight towards the food stalls. 

(Name) frowned as they watched him retreat into the crowd.

The list of things they needed to confirm with Rintarō continued to grow. 

Twenty minutes later, Atsumu returned, one hand cradling a cardboard box of _takoyaki_ while his other hand gripped the neck of two bottles of water. “Slim pickin’s down there. Course they can’t afford decent shit.”

They scoffed, pulling one of the bottles into their hands so Atsumu could sit down next to them again. “We’re in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, they did fine.” 

As the blond settled down next to them, a new car pulled up to the starting line. “Have standards for yerself, wouldya?”

“Yeah sure whatever helps you sleep at night,” the jutted their chin out towards the Mazda that started off around the first stretch of track, “now shut up, gotta make sure Teru doesn’t fuck this up.”

Atsumu scoffed, biting his tongue as he handed the _takoyaki_ to the mechanic while watching the car pull into the first s-bend of the course.

A subtle drop in speed and a tight turn around the inside line, (Name) nodded in approval as they watched Yuuji straighten the Mazda out before speeding up towards the next turn.

“He really is yer second, huh.” Their companion mumbled, cracking the seal on the bottle before taking a slow, patient sip. 

“I gave him one morning to retain everything I told him.” They snorted, watching Yuuji exit the fourth turn with a slight shake. “He’s doing alright, hasn’t lost time trying to fix a major fuck up. But he’s still got three laps, he could prove me wrong and fuck it up.”

The man snorted, using a toothpick to swipe one of the octopus balls from them. “So much faith in yer friend, aye.”

“With my life, yeah,” they grinned, shrugging their shoulders, “a car? Probably not.”

Yuuji finished his first lap cleanly and to much fanfare, and (Name) revelled in the way the vehicle continued to glide across the asphalt.

"Would ya race if ya could?”

(Name) didn’t bother glancing back at him, instead deciding to keep their gaze firmly settled on Yuuji’s performance.

“F’it was me... F’I was still fucked from a wreck then I wouldn’t have come. Too temptin’.” His gaze burrowed into the side of their head. 

The sound of screeching tires filled their mind. 

Whether or not it came from the track was beyond them.

“Self preservation is a hell of a drug.” They mused, sarcasm hopefully hiding the uncertainty in their voice.

If Atsumu noticed, he didn’t say.

Instead he stole another piece of _takoyaki_ , silent.

And the quiet was nice. 

Strange. But nice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have the [DH Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5IdeA93Kh6ecjMdtxcLYvZ?si=ZlQVylNhRICc4_VAAi_DTQ) to make up for my absence. it's still a work in progress because the vibe of the rest of the story keeps changing, so feel free to rec me songs to add if you feel like it owo


End file.
